In The Shadow of Power
by Lazy Cakes
Summary: Queen Kylo Amidala. Emperor Hux. What could go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

Emperor Hux checked his watch. His arm immediately returned to its stiff hold behind his back. He paced up to the windowed wall of the waiting room, but did not spend any time appreciating what was outside before turning away and pacing to the other wall. He was very irritated.

His appointment was almost an hour late.

He didn't even know who he was meeting with anymore, because apparently, upon hearing that they would be meeting the new Emperor of the First Order, the inventory supervisor had fainted.

Hux pulled at his collar. He hated this terrible planet; wished it hadn't escaped the Star Destroyer, even though he'd never really approved of _that_ in the first place, either. But his reign did not begin until he agreed to destroy it, so in a way, it was useful to him after all.

He did not like things that were not useful to him.

 _Finally_ , one of the five doors to the room slid open. Hux turned to face the sound, lips pursed in disapproval.

He had long since learned how to keep a stiff poker face, but he nearly dropped it anyway.

A creature whose true nature was hidden behind thick makeup and a long, heavily layered and ornate dress closed the door behind himself.

He was stunning, Hux thought as he tried to convince himself that he wasn't.

He was a creature of pale skin and dark hair, pale skin made paler by white makeup, dark hair held back daintily by threads of gold lined with pearls, netted across his hair and draping down to his shoulders from a crown of intricate metals and pearls of various sizes and colors. Only his face was painted so pale, and the collar of his dress hung from his throat instead of his shoulders, which were exposed and almost as light as the makeup itself, dotted with constellations of beauty marks and freckles. His upper lip was painted a deep bloody red, a line tracing down the rest of his face to his chin, and his cheeks accented with a spot of that same color on each one. His wings of eyeliner reached their tiny feathers almost to the edges of his face, but none of this full-bodied mask could hide how absolutely _bored_ he looked. The sides of his sleeves were not stitched together and only connected at his wrists, leaving his arms majorly exposed, as well as the bangles and bracelets that traveled up them. It gave Hux a lot to look at as the creature extended a hand, and Hux realized that he was meant to either shake it or kiss it. He was so suddenly shocked and insulted that he did neither, which may have also saved him from doing the wrong one.

"Emperor Hux. A pleasure to meet you."

The creature spoke as he withdrew his hand. He held it in his other. Hux could not contain his scoff. Who was this, a prostitute? Were they really that desperate to distract him? He was a busy man, Hux had no time for such ridiculousness.

"It's about time _someone_ came to retrieve me. I scheduled this appointment for this planet and zone's fifth hour out of twenty-four, and it's already eight!"

"Very organized, are we? I hope that you forgive us for the wait, though I think your watch may be a bit fast. It's only six, here. We use the star system time." The creature's voice was amiable enough, but far too casual. There was nobody left in the galaxy short of a monarch who was fit to talk to him in such a way. Hux scoffed again, thoroughly irritated.

"Who gave you the _right-ahem._ I was invited here to discuss distribution of thermal energy plants, was I not? I should very much like to get this over with. I'm rather busy; running a government tends to fill your schedule quite quickly. Not that you should know." Hux couldn't contain his last biting remark, and was infuriated when the creature, angelic as he was, laughed quietly.

"Running a government is not easy, you are far from mistaken there. However, I do not believe it is an excuse to be quite so rude, oh dear."

The creature gave a lilting half-smile.

 _How dare he?!_

Before Hux had control of himself or even realized what he was doing, he reached out and slapped the prostitute across the face. It left a white mark on his glove, with a small red circle.

The sound was perfect; the satisfying _spwack_ echoed through the room accompanied by a stunned huff of air.

The creature that had to be a prostitute recoiled slowly, closing his mouth first, and then dropping his shoulder forward so his fingers could trace where he had been smacked, and then his mouth closing into a thin line as he turned to Hux not with fear, nor anger, but with complete and utter confusion. The door he had entered slid open again as a small group of men all wearing the same grey and white uniform herded into the room, each one giving no recognition to Hux as they crowded the man he'd just slapped.

"My lord, you should not have run off like that without telling anyone where you were going!"

"Your highness, you smeared your makeup? How did you manage that?"

"Oh, let me see, I have your makeup right here, I can fix this in two seconds, I promise."

The handmaids fluttered around the man, and Hux stared from one to the other with huge eyes, realization slowly dawning upon him.

"My apologies, Knights, but I had hoped to meet the Emperor personally, before politics got involved. I recognize now that he is not interested in anything but politics with us."

Hux's hand felt like it was on fire from where it had crossed the man's face as one of the 'Knights' finally seemed to notice that Hux was there, and with a deep bow, murmured,

"Emperor Hux, may we present...Queen Kylo Ben Amidala, ruler of the Republic."


	2. Chapter 2

Ben's unfalteringly intense stare became cold that day for Hux.

He would later learn that he had missed something incredibly rare; the warmth he was introduced with was something that was absolutely unprecedented; nobody had ever seen the Queen so playful or warm. Hux was certain that they were over exaggerating at first, but as the Republic came closer to the First Order and the talk of treaties started, he realized that the advisors, senators, officers, plain gossipers, they were all right; 'Kylo' Ben Amidala was cold and closed off and purely, strictly political, and damn good at his job.

Hux didn't believe the Senator who first whispered to him at a beneficial Gala that Kylo was also known for random and inexplicable temper tantrums, entering an empty room and leaving it somehow burned and flayed. It could not be explained, and as he stared down the table at the man in question, who was again hidden behind huge robes and makeup, decided that he would figure it out for himself. Somehow.

That proved to be much more difficult than Hux had ever imagined; Kylo had little patience for anyone, least of all him. Though he never told anyone about the slap, and he was fairly certain Kylo had kept it to himself, too, Hux knew that Kylo would never forget nor forgive, and Hux couldn't dare to attempt an apology. He also learned not to call Kylo by his given name; eighty percent of the time, he would just not answer, and the other percent when he did was with a cruel and dangerous glare, and _then_ not answer anyway.

Hux finally managed to corner someone who could explain why this man was called _Queen_ , and the terrified hand-maid explained in a thick Naboo accent that it was a position typically held by women, yes, but Ben's grandmother had been Padmé Amidala. Hux knew who she was, but hardly cared anyway before then; she was the best ruler that star system had seen, and Ben was determined to live up to her legacy. He was a senator at only fifteen, had risen to the throne at sixteen, and nearing the end of the fourth year of his rule, was preparing to relinquish it at twenty. Hux couldn't believe it; he demanded the maid repeat himself three times.

" _Yes, yes, Kylo Amidala is only twenty! I'm telling you the truth, I swear!"_

His shrill and panicked cry drew the attention of a few others, the handmaids to Kylo collectively called the Knights of 'Ren' (Hux didn't even want to know), who immediately moved to protective position. They circled around their coworker dangerously, and Hux realized rather quickly that this training was meant to protect their queen, to whom they were unfalteringly loyal.

He didn't know and didn't bother to ask if this kind of training was simply standard or specialized for Kylo, because Kylo seemed quite capable of protecting himself from unwanted attention.

And did he receive his fair amount of unwanted attention!

Hux had never seen as much paparazzi in the entire galaxy as what he saw on Naboo; he watched press workers scale buildings he was rumored to be in with one hand, camera in the other. Kylo Amidala had, subsequently, perfected the art of profane gestures only in the direction of the cameras. Hux had many times been in a grouped conversation in which Kylo was also part, and Kylo, while still engaged in the debate, would raise his hand toward something Hux hadn't even noticed, and the others would simply accept that there was a camera there. Without breaking the conversation, they would all turn away from that direction. As these Senators and Ambassadors and Peace-Makers put it, 'it was just something you learned to do'.

Any attempt on Hux's part to speak directly to Kylo did nothing. The Queen didn't make lone appointments with First Order leaders, and he certainly didn't make exceptions. Hux hardly had time to worry about the _brat_ , as he called him in his head, anyway; the Republic was getting finicky, and had halted all trade until negotiations of a peace treaty began.

Making peace was not something the First Order had ever concerned itself with doing, and so, as Hux found himself almost dozing off at his seat at the end of a conference table filled with the other leaders of the First Order, none of them were actually sure how to design the document before them.

"Most treaties are sealed with an important marriage, are they not?"

"Of course, but most everyone of high rank in the First Order has already either married or had a marriage arranged."

"And it would be considered disrespectful if we offered a marriage of someone of lower status within the First Order to a higher rank of the Republic. It would be seen as less of a union and more of a power-play."

"Fine." Hux sighed, lifting his head. "I can read between the lines. Arrange a marriage for me; I don't care. I know you've been trying to marry me off for ages now, anyway."

The table fell quiet. Commander Phasma leaned forward, her usually helmet-headed hair curled back.

"Is there anyone specific you want to try to arrange with, sir?"

Hux leaned back, chewing his lip, though he did not think for long.

"It must be a marriage of the absolutely highest rank, yes? In that case...I will ask for the hand of their Queen."

"Kylo Amidala?"

Phasma's voice took on an uncharacteristically high pitch as Hux gave a small, crooked smirk.

"Yes."


	3. Chapter 3

Hux watched Kylo's face as he read that same document from the opposite end of a discussion table, four days later. Why did he feel so smug at the look of offense on Kylo's face as he reached what Hux considered to be the most important part?

"You would hope to unify our powers with a...marriage?"

"Is that not...is that not customary?"

The First Order's mediator looked to Hux nervously before responding.

"...Not often. It used to be quite common, but we've since advanced to other techniques."

"So you won't sign the treaty due to the marriage?"

Kylo lifted his eyes as Hux spoke, hiding his interest poorly.

"Who is it between?"

Senator Organa stood behind her son, a strong woman who had, up until then, remained quiet.

"The highest ranks of both governing bodies, ma'am."

"So you want to marry my son." Organa said, her hand moving to her son's shoulder.

"Mother…"

"No! I won't have this, Ben, I won't let you sell your life away for politics."

"Mother, we can no longer afford for anyone to do what you did."

Leia Organa tightened her lips, looking down at Kylo.

Hux was looking at Kylo, too; both mediators, and all the press, were looking at him. The entire room seemed to have its eyes trained on the Queen.

Kylo lowered his head slightly, lazily looking back to the document. He was sitting primly, legs crossed at his ankles, his robe black as the night. His makeup was the same as the first time Hux had met him, but his hair was loose, wild and still beautiful in an untamed way, with a gold crown to top it. He had a cowl wrapped all around his neck, too, covering everything under his chin. He sighed softly, closing his eyes lazily, and Hux felt something horrible in his chest that made him want to cough. It felt like a tickling, like his heart was having palpitations.

Kylo brushed a lock of his hair aside as he opened his eyes again, and as he dropped his hand to his neck, exposed part of it.

A bruise, purple and sore, rested along his pale skin in a round shape.

Hux stared at it blatantly. Kylo said something; Hux didn't hear it. Kylo looked up at the mediator, eyes bored.

"Emperor?"

"Er, I-"

Kylo gave quiet huff of a laugh. He pulled his cowl against his neck again.

"I asked if you intended to maintain separation of powers after such a unification, Emperor."

The way Kylo said _Emperor_ had chills running down Hux's back.

"...That would depend on the desires of the Republic, your Majesty. The First Order has strength over its affairs and seeks only an alliance, at the absolute lowest, but a complete unification of the two bodies could be quite beneficial."

"It sounds to me like you are not sure exactly what you want, Emperor."

Kylo said, his voice a quiet hum.

Hux knew _exactly_ what he wanted; he was staring at him from across the table. From the first time Kylo had looked at him with that confused pout, hurt, makeup smeared, he had been driven mad with the concept that he had brashly destroyed yet another possibly gentle relationship, lost another potential friend. His determination to get close to the beautiful storm of a man in spite of his abusive first impression was pushing him to madness.

He wanted Kylo Amidala; at his side, under him, in his mind, in his clothes, in his bed, in his lap, in his life. He wanted Kylo Amidala.

His train of thought had run into absolute shambles when Kylo looked up at him again. Even through his makeup, Hux saw something, and he wondered if there was a flush on Kylo's cheeks. He couldn't imagine why there would be.

Kylo looked back down quickly, flicking past the proposal and continuing to read the remainder of the treaty without giving a response.

How political of him.

Senator Organa stepped forward as Kylo continued to read, her eyes sharp, clever.

She sat at her son's left, and turned to Hux.

"So, you're the one who wants to marry my son?"

"Mother…"

"Yes. I am the highest power in the First Order, and it seemed only fitting to unify our governing bodies from, well, from the top down."

Hux responded directly, just as Senator Organa had, ignoring his mediator though he would later be furious at the lack of respect.

"What are your intentions with my son? I know very openly of your intentions with the government; that's for Ben to work out with you. Your intentions with my child, however, are my direct interest."

" _Mother!_ "

Kylo jerked his head up, eyes wide. Was he embarrassed, or angry?

Hux swallowed carefully. The Senator stared him down calmly. He needed to choose his words wisely, from here on.

"I must admit, I had no plans to form my own Union, but…"

Kylo was watching Hux from behind his mother, though he seemed only slightly interested. His eyes flicked down over Hux's uniform, and Hux drew a blank on anything political.

"...I intend to respect any union made between our governing bodies. Be it mine, your son's, both of ours, or neither, I intend to uphold respect for it. Should you accept our treaty, and should your son and I be wed, I would intend only to uphold those wedding vows."

It wasn't good enough. Hux could see it on the Senator's face; she was unimpressed.

Kylo turned the last page of the treaty as his mother placed her hands on the table and cleared her throat.

"Well, Emperor, I have to say that-"

"-I accept."

""What?""

Senator Organa and Emperor Hux turned in unison, shocked.

Kylo was shaking a hand through his hair, seemingly bored. He turned the treaty back to its front page, and pushed it towards the center of the table.

"I accept the terms of this treaty; in the name of peace, the Republic will accept these measures of avoiding war. You may trade with our planets; you may travel freely through our systems; we may monitor your actions; we may end our agreement at any time. I accept these conditions, and the rest included."

Kylo extended a hand, the same marble-sculpted expression of half-interest on his face. His mediator, who had been largely ignored, placed a pen in his hand, and Kylo signed the treaty with a flourish of red ink.

His mother was sitting dumbfounded, her mouth slightly open, hands limp on the table.

"Ben-you know that-"'

"-Of course I know. For the peace of our people, I think I can stand to be married. Wouldn't you agree, Hux?"

The edges of Kylo's mouth twisted. Was it a sneer or a smile?

Hux wouldn't find out.

Kylo glanced at the clock on the wall, and stiffened. "Well, it seems the time we have allotted for this appointment is over. Send the treaty through the Senate; have them know that I agree to and accept it. Once they have given their vote, we shall see about the rest."

He directed the last few sentences to the mediator, who nodded swiftly and gathered the treaty and disappeared with it through a side door.

Kylo did not bow as he stood lithely. He did not say anything; he turned, and walked out, his footsteps echoing back into the room.

Hux sat motionless. Leia slowly placed her hands together, closed her mouth, and turned to Hux.

"So, Emperor Hux. You and I have something very important to discuss, now."

"I...Do we?"

Hux managed to retain his respect through his surprise.

"Likely the most important discussion of your life, sir."

Senator Organa leaned back in her seat, wise eyes sharp and narrow.

"May I ask what, exactly, we will discuss?"

"We are going to talk about your future courtship with my son."


	4. Chapter 4

"You. Did. _What_?!"

"I didn't have any other choice, Poe!"

"Uh, say no?! There are a million other choices, Benny!"

"You don't understand. It's not so simple when your people are hanging on a precipice between peaceful tension and war!"

Poe closed his mouth, unable to look away from his childhood friend.

Ben Organa, as he had known him, was curled up in the copilot seat of his X-wing, wearing a mix of grays and whites, hair pulled into a messy bun away from a makeup-free face. He would never have been caught _dead_ like this as Queen.

Ben pulled his knees to his chest, sulking. "I didn't _want_ to marry him; I don't want to marry anyone. But if it means I will have power in the affairs of the First Order, I will do it. The Republic will return peace to our galaxy only once the First Order has been sated."

"Everything you do is about politics or the Force nowadays, isn't it?"

Poe stretched backwards, not wanting to process the new information.

Ben didn't respond, but he twirled the hilt of his Lightsaber around his fingers. Poe watched with a thin mouth. "Jedi...Queen...when do you have time to be a person?"

Ben gave a huff between frustration and humor.

"I don't. That's on purpose. And, before you can ask, no. Hux will never know that I'm a Jedi; he may be my fiancé, but that doesn't mean I ever have to care for or trust him."

"Ben, that's absolutely awful."

The young man shrugged, pulling the collar of his shirt taught.

"It's politics. Besides, it won't really affect me; Rey's still got all the mistresses she could want. Don't you?"

Ben swung his seat around as the door to the cockpit hissed open.

Rey was standing at the opening, arms crossed. Her eyes were sharp, angry, and clever, and her own Lightsaber hilt swung from her hip.

"I'm actually quite happily and exclusively married, thank you very much; if Phabs has any extraneous partners, she keeps them well away from me."

"But she doesn't know you're a Jedi, does she?"

Rey made a face.

"Absolutely not. How stupid do you really think I am?"

"Dunno. Luke's pretty naive."

Rey made a short sound as she clambered into the cockpit, making herself comfortable on Poe's lap.

"Hey, Poe. Guessing you've already grilled him like I was planning to."

"Rey, you're his cousin; you should be able to knock some sense into him!"

Rey leaned back over Poe as he snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her to one side so he could still see Ben sulking.

"Aunt, technically; does nobody in this galaxy understand how cloning works? Anyway. I can't say there's anything to be knocked into. I'm just frustrated that of all the people in the First Order to knock headboards with, you choose the one who openly and blatantly denies the existence of the Force!"

Ben gave a scowl, accented with a dramatic snarl, but otherwise did not move.

"I didn't go after _him_ ; he chose me! Maker knows why; the first time we met, he thought I was-"

Ben fell silent suddenly.

Poe and Rey leaned forward.

"You never told me what happened the first time you met him…"

"Me neither."

Ben's pupils dilated and he flushed angrily.

"He might have thought I was a prostitute...and slapped me."

Ben spoke quickly, looking intently away. Rey's mouth fell open; Poe's closed in anger.

"...And you never had him punished?"

Rey pulled Poe's hands away, standing as best she could in the cramped space. Ben huffed.

"I didn't know what to do; I didn't try to pick anything up until after he hit me. By the time I actually got into his head, any real thought was corrupted with rage and shock and guilt. I don't know why he hit me."

"Of all the people in the Republic to hate but still want to marry, how did you end up at the top of that list?"

Poe brushed his hair back, trying not to think about what he would've done if he was there to watch some bastard slap his longstanding best friend. Ben flushed again, dark eyes cast down.

"...He doesn't hate me. Quite the opposite, in fact; it's really very filthy. He thinks so loudly."

Rey tapped at the dashboard.

"We're going to talk about this more, believe that, but we're late, Poe. We need to be on Hoth in fourteen."

She pushed Ben out of his seat, and he fell easily with a dramatic flair. She laughed as she took his chair, and he smiled softly as she pushed his foot away, which he had stuck as far up as he could. He sat up and crossed his legs, leaned his head against Poe's seat, and became sullen again.

They left the secret hangar in awkward silence, Poe thinking hard and hoping that neither of his friends had their thoughts in his head.

"It won't be too bad once the ceremony is complete, but from the sound of it, your marriage is actually quite far away."

Hux glanced up at Phasma, who was filing her nails, and back to the document before him.

He was sitting at his desk, trying to do some work, and Phasma was laying on top of his desk, keeping him from doing anything except look at the document he'd had in his hands for twenty minutes.

His imperial jacket was tossed over the back of his chair, and his boots were tucked neatly under the desk, but other than that, he was wearing the same uniform he'd worn the entire day, and now, half of the night.

"You don't even understand how complex this is. I'm not allowed to wear white until my wedding, but Kylo is meant to wear increasing amounts of white up until we are married, and how much white the both of us wear after is meant to indicate how well we get along. I'm meant to leave him flowers and gems that mean different things, and nobody even knows which plants mean what. I'm not supposed to be alone with him, but by the time we are married, we're supposed to have written our own vows based upon our love for one another. It's hypocritical, nonsensical custom that Leia herself didn't even follow!"

"Mmm." Phasma affirmed, drawing her hand back to look at the effect of her flatly filed nails, before beginning to round them. "I honestly don't think I spent more than five minutes with my wife before we got married, but we were stuck with each other for nine days after on our honeymoon, and we do quite well. She's even given me a nickname; her name's too short for me to do anything with, but we get along."

"If the way you file your nails has anything to do with it, I would say that you get along a little _too_ well. You do realize that you're basically fingerfucking Luke Skywalker, right?"

Phasma stretched, arching her back like a cat, intentionally knocking a stack of papers off the desk.

"See, she's technically a clone of his grandmother, because that's how far back the genes go, and why Rey came out a girl. Which is not a problem for me."

Hux made an irritated sound, and flipped the page of his courting notes.

"I'm still completely shocked that he actually agreed."

Hux finally admitted after several minutes of silence. Phasma propped herself up on an elbow, brushing her hair out of her face.

"What, you're not the sex bomb of the First Order?"

Hux gave her a disapproving look, but didn't deny it.

"We didn't exactly get along the first time we met."

"What, you kick his ass or somethin'?"

Phasma stretched out across his desk again, and he was reminded by how tall she was as her feet hung off it.

"Don't joke like that." Hux demanded sharply. Phasma sat upright immediately, out of shock or soldier habit Hux did not know.

"Oh, seriously, what did you do?"

Hux shifted uncomfortably, holding the notes in front of his face. He didn't want to admit how red he got.

"Something unprofessional."

"Hux…"

Phasma reached up and pulled the paper away from his face. He didn't stop her, but he wouldn't look her in the face.

"You're the closest thing I've got to a friend. I don't know if even you would stand for what I did."

Phasma made a short sound.

"That was almost touching. You know that I'm already aware that you're a terrible person; come on, what could you have done?"

"I thought he was a hooker!"

Phasma laughed, flopping back onto the desk.

"So did you buy him or what?"

"I slapped him."

Hux spat, head in his hands. There was no response.

He looked up. Phasma was staring at him, hands together.

Slowly, she started to clap, shaking her head.

"Good job. Goo-oood job, Huxie."

"Don't call me 'Huxie'. Stop applauding!"

"How many people have you hit in your life outside of training? And out of all those, what, six people, how many did you try to marry? The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Watch your fucking mouth."

" _HUX!_ Why do you want to go after some bitch you thought was a whore so unworthy of your presence that you slapped?"

Very suddenly, Hux dug his nails into Phasma's knee. He glared dangerously at her.

"Do _not_ speak about Kylo Amidala like that."

Hux's grip began to shake. Phasma tensed.

"A...are you crying, Hux?"

"...It's been a stressful week."

"Hux, ca-"

"-It's late, Phasma. Your wife's probably wondering where you've been. You should go home."

Hux rubbed at his face carefully. He dropped the papers onto his desk.

He took several deep breaths, and rubbed the back of his neck. "I know why I want to marry Kylo; he's the most powerful figurehead in the Republic, and he knows how to control his people...but I don't know why I want to marry _Kylo_. I just know that I want to be closer with him. Sue me for that."

Phasma gave a quiet laugh. She smacked her hand on the desk and stood.

"I know why. You're obsessed with anything you think you can't have. You tore your way through the Old Order because you didn't think you could have all the power; you destroyed Snoke because you thought he was in your way; now, you want to marry a man you slapped because you think you can't make up for hitting him. All you've ever wanted was power, but you don't chase it; you live in its shadow."

Hux didn't move.

Phasma sighed quietly. "I want things to go well for you. I want you to listen to what you really want, but I don't think you know what you want."

She left.

Hux leaned back in his seat and dug through the pocket of the jacket hanging over his chair.

He began to smoke, but it couldn't dry his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

"Kylo."

The queen ignored the man behind him.

He was, after all, quite busy.

He was talking rapidly between two different languages to five different people, none of whom were seated, though they were in a conference room. They were standing calmly in a group, speaking in respectful tones, something Hux had never seen before.

If one stood while in a political discussion, it meant violence; an angry threat.

Speaking of Hux, he was standing just inside the doorway, regretting everything leading up to this with every fiber of his being.

He was struggling to hold a huge vase filled with the most exotic and colorful plants he could find that weren't lethal, and he was fairly certain he was allergic to the glowing blue one. He had _tried_ to just have someone deliver them to the Queen's residence within his council for him, but they were returned with a note in Leia Organa's handwriting: _that's not how it works._

Hux sniffled, adjusting the vase so it wasn't cutting into his hip. He tried to schedule a separate meeting with the queen, but his schedule was even more packed than Hux's.

 _Aren't we engaged, now?_ Hux thought. _Shouldn't we actually make time for one another, even if just for show?_

Very abruptly, Kylo Amidala paused in the middle of a thought, a language Hux didn't understand falling silent on his tongue.

He turned to face Hux, and as soon as he did, it was like a blanket was pulled over his thoughts. Everything he had planned to say went fuzzy. He could only stare blankly at Kylo, who had one hand resting against his collarbone, standing straight and blinking lazily, innocently confused.

"Emperor...you are...here. Unannounced..?"

Hux watched Kylo's eyes flit over to a droid standing at the door, one that must have been meant to keep people out.

"I don't have very much time, I'm afraid. I-"

Kylo seemed to finally take in the huge plants in Hux's arms. His lower lip fell open slightly, and his eyebrows pulled his makeup up towards his hair.

Hux couldn't think professionally.

Kylo was wearing a deep, calming purple, a robe that had a tight and high collar holding his neck the way Hux could only dream of holding, with a single white opal on a necklace against his chest.

One of the ambassadors behind Kylo leaned forward slowly, mouth open in the beginning of a laugh.

Hux was suddenly dizzy; it felt like his thoughts were swimming through themselves, and, oh Maker, was he actually _blushing_?!

He needed to get out of there.

"I-I got these for you."

He barely stammered out, shoving the flowers towards Kylo. He used the giant petals to hide his face, but peeked through them to watch the queen nervously.

There was a shockingly gentle smile on his face, brown eyes soft as they regarded the gift.

Suddenly, knowingly, Kylo's eyes met Hux's through the plants. The soft smile hardened into a blank, proper stare, and Kylo reached out and took the vase daintily.

His fingertips ran over Hux's gloves before taking the gift, and placing it on the table.

Hux stared in shock, hands still out, sniffing.

"I am so very sorry, Emperor," Kylo lilted, his tone velvety, "but I cannot accept such a gift as this."

"What? Why?"

Kylo cast his eyes lazily to the flowers.

"I am allergic to at least three of the plants in that bouquet."

The man who had bent around Kylo began to laugh, slapping the queen's shoulder.

Kylo reacted violently.

He spun about and his hand immediately locked over the man's bicep, the other hand somewhere near his own waist, an absolutely lethal look in his eyes, before his face relaxed suddenly.

Kylo gave a quiet breath of shock at himself, letting go of the man. He took a step back, and then another, and backed all the way into Hux before turning around again.

He became confused, sort of sheepish, and carefully regarded the room.

"I-I am sorry. I…"

"Do not apologize, Queen. It was entirely my fault."

The man bowed deeply, still shaken.

Kylo looked from Hux to the other dignitaries he was with. He shook himself carefully, smoothed a hand over his hair, and when he straightened again, he seemed as bored and unaffected as ever.

He turned on his heel, and left without another word.

Hux closed his mouth, unaware that it was open, and forced his hands to move.

He lifted the plants again, and while staring at the group of dignitaries he didn't recognize, followed Kylo out of the room.

Kylo was already gone-Hux knew he would be.

He dumped the plants into the nearest receptacle and pulled the small notebook out of his pocket.

 _1: Exotic Plants_

He scratched it out violently.


	6. Chapter 6

_2: An Outfit_

Hux stared blankly at one of the mirrors in the window of the shop he was standing in front of. He had reserved exactly half an hour, and his appointment started in just a few moments.

He sighed deeply, pocketing his notebook, and strode powerfully into the shop.

A chromed C3 droid waddled up to him, its magnetic arm covered with pins.

"Good afternoon, sir, are you my next appointment?"

"If your next appointment is the Emperor, then yes."

The droid's eyes flickered as it buffered.

"I am sorry, sir, I don't recognize that title. I am only a service droid."

Hux sighed carefully. It was just a droid.

"You're looking for Hux."

"Ah. Yes. Follow me, please, we'll start by taking your measurements."

"I'm not here to get anything for myself." He scoffed suddenly, looking around himself at the displays of floor-length gowns, robes, and other pieces that were more glitter than fabric. "I have the measurements you'll need here. I-I don't know anything about fashion, but he's got dark hair and pale skin and-and lovely...lovely dark eyes…"

Hux cleared his throat suddenly, typing Kylo's measurements into the keypad the droid opened on its chest. "Whatever colors will look good with that, I don't care."

The droid buffered for a bit, and then hobbled away.

Hux crossed his arms, closing his eyes.

The door behind him opened, the bell on top of it ringing, the new customers chatting calmly.

There was a sudden gasp, and the conversation behind him fell silent.

Citizens were always terrified of him.

He opened his eyes, rubbing his temple as he turned.

He froze, hand still at his forehead.

Kylo Ren was standing in the doorway, a travel cup of caf in one hand.

Hux stared. He stared and stared and stared.

Kylo was wearing minimal makeup, gentle eyeliner wings and full-lipped lipstick, which for him, seemed like nothing. His hair was pulled back into a messy, haphazard bun, loose strands at his neck and near his face, a pair of sinfully tight beige leggings that disappeared into fur-topped, soft-bottomed booties under a white tunic, with tight sleeves past the elbows and the rest of the garment loose, hanging casually from his frame, making him look much smaller than he really was. The collar of his tunic had a large cowl, again, but his knuckles were red, bruised, and raw, clutching his cup, and his minimal makeup couldn't hide a soft and faded bruise under his jaw.

He had walked in arm-in-arm with a brunette woman in similar dress, whose eyes turned furious the moment they locked onto Hux.

"Kylo?"

"Hux!"

"What are _you_ doing here?!"

The woman stepped in front of Kylo like she was trying to block Hux from even looking at him, and sure enough, Kylo quickly tucked his hands into the sleeves of his shirt, knuckles out of sight.

"Rey...please, it-it's alright."

Rey looked darkly at the queen, but stepped aside anyway.

"Why-why _are_ you here?"

Kylo suddenly went timid, eyes cast down to his drink.

Hux flushed. Hard. He went redder than his hair, and couldn't say anything. His brain felt fuzzy, so fuzzy he didn't even know what he was _supposed_ to say.

Rey turned back to Hux with the same look of surprise on her face as Kylo.

"You. I mean-I'm-you-you're here-shopping-I'm here-I- _I'm here shopping for you!_ "

He spluttered.

Kylo went red too, his shoulders limping.

Hux stepped forward, clearing his throat desperately. He extended his hands awkwardly. "I-I meant to say…what I meant to say was, your mother gave me a very specific set of instructions, and I intend to follow them, and I'm meant to give you gifts of courtship, and- I thought I would get you an outfit. I just-I just thought-"

Kylo chuckled quietly, shaking his head.

"My mother never even followed those rules. I should have known she'd set you up to it. That was what those plants were about, too, then?"

Hux smiled suddenly.

He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled sincerely, and Kylo seemed surprised too.

"I still intend to follow through on it, your majesty."

Kylo smiled too, sort of blankly, before he shook himself and went back to being a statue.

"I think our most important goal should be actually planning a wedding. We have to make it look good, you know."

Hux laughed suddenly, a sharp, barking laugh, and he watched Kylo flinch from it.

It gave him a jolt, some kind of rush, that the grand being was frightened of him, even if for only a moment.

"I know perfectly well. It's all about the posterity."

"The image makes the man." Kylo agreed, taking a gentle sip of his drink.

Rey scoffed, shoving herself up against Kylo and taking his arm again.

"I think we should leave the Emperor to his work. He seems to be very busy." She practically spat. "It'd be a real smack in the face if we threw off his schedule."

She tugged Kylo with enough force to pull him slightly off his feet. He sullened, and flipped a loose bit of hair away from his face.

"Goodbye, Emperor." Kylo murmured, pulling his sleeve over his hand again. "I look forward to seeing what you choose; this is a personal favorite store of mine." He added as an afterthought.

The bell rang again as they left.

Hux grinned. His entire face seemed to contort gleefully, and the weight of stupidity on his mind seemed to lift.

The droid brought back four outfits. Hux bought them all, looking each over only once. As the droid scanned in the order, Hux pulled his notebook out again.

 _2: An Outfit_

He made a short check mark, and smiled again briefly.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: HOLY SHIT I? WON A COSPLAY COMPETITION LAST MONTH AS CIEL PHANTOMHIVE! no dead serious i went to jafax as ciel and my friend was sebastian and i ended up winning the cosplay competition my instagram is lastlifecreatons and you can go check out my page for pictures anyway i'm still shook but here's a chapter update

"Poe, I swear on my life, we _cannot_ let this marriage go through."

Rey stormed through the door of Poe's service garage, talking from the moment she crossed the threshold.

Poe cursed as he smacked his head on the chassis of the ship he was working on, sliding out from under it and tossing his wrench aside. He looked up, rubbing his head.

"You think I don't know? Benny's signed himself into a deathwish, but he won't listen to me!"

Rey scooped up Poe's droid as he rolled to her, beeping excitedly.

"So we get involved ourselves. You know how stubborn Ben is; he'll never break it off by himself. We've got to do something; that man is evil incarnate."

"What happened? Wait, did you actually meet him?"

Poe wiped his hands on a rag as he slid back under his current project, and Rey crossed the open space to lean against a counter, letting BB-8 back to the ground, where he beeped and rolled away again.

"His thoughts are _so loud!_ Maker, he doesn't believe in the Force at all, and it might be what's saving him from complete and total humiliation!"

"Rey, start at the beginning, what happened?"

She rubbed the back of her neck and groaned.

"Okay, so, yesterday Ben and I went to that rich little moon with all the shops he loves, and we walked into the one that makes all his public appearance outfits, and the dickhead is just standing around inside like he owns the place, and Ben's knuckles are all scraped up, and he's not wearing nearly enough makeup to hide himself-we were _not_ expecting to be seen by anyone recognizable-and it takes him a good five minutes to spit out that he's there shopping _for Kylo_ , as if it isn't _Ben_ standing right in front of him, and as if Ben doesn't already have every robe and dress in that place, and the entire time he's just swimming through these vulgar, half-formed, completely falsified thoughts, and he's blabbering on that he's _properly courting_ Ben-utter garbage!-and Ben goes right along, but he says-he said-'we have to make it look good'! Ben has no interest in him at all, he's only doing this because it's part of a treaty that's being passed through the Senate _only now_ , a good sequence _after_ he signed himself into a marriage for it!"

Rey pounded her fist on the metal countertop, letting out a quiet and frustrated sob. Poe pulled his jacket off, covered in soot and grease, and held Rey to his chest. She huffed, breathing heavily, but she let him hold her.

"Rey...I don't know what they are, but I know Ben's got more reasons to do this than he's telling us. He's not the same Ben who rose to power; he's given up everything he is to the Force and his people. There's hardly room in his head for _himself_ , and I think that's probably intentional. He...he was never the same, after his dad…"

"I know." Rey hiccuped weakly. She shuddered, and stepped away from Poe. "I know, and that's why I'm scared for him…Luke saw something, weeks ago, and he won't tell me what it is, but I know it's something about this marriage, I just know it, and yet-Ben's ignoring our pleas, Luke won't look him in the face, and this bastard of a fiancé Hux is standing at his podium speaking of the 'truth of the Order' while Ben stands by and pretends he's not trying to deliberately destroy it!"

Nervously, Rey had pulled the hilt of her lightsaber out, and she twiddled it back and forth, much to Poe's unease.

"What better way to destroy something than to start at it's brain? Rey, I'm sure Ben is thinking that, he's smart, he knows that the best way to take down the Order is to get inside it, and, let's be honest, Ben is just as dramatic as his father and uncle and-well, pretty much your entire family. This is his way of ending the reign of the bastard, as you called him, and he likes to make dramatic exits."

Rey laughed hopefully, but seemed far from convinced.

"How are we supposed to end this disaster before it begins? We can't do anything; he won't do anything."

Poe rubbed at his face and groaned as he thought.

"Did you ever talk to Leia? You know that woman, if she thinks for even a second that this guy is bad news for Ben, she-Rey?"

Rey was already gone, door swinging. BB-8 beeped sadly. Poe gave him a single pat and slowly went back to his work, face hot and chest heavy.

" _Huuuuuuux_!"

The emperor grimaced as the doors to his office blew in. Phasma stalked between them, jerking her helmet off and shaking her hair out.

She smelled like sweat and expensive lipstick that she never wore.

She was also the only person in the galaxy capable of coming into the Emperor's quarters like so.

"Commander Phasma. May I ask why you see fit to kick my doors in while I'm working with highly classified material?"

Condescendingly, Hux shut down the holopad he was working on.

She leered over his desk, red in the face.

"My wife tells me that you're getting yourself in trouble. She's damned your engagement to her nephew-cousin?-and won't speak to me about it. What did you do, you social Hutt?"

Hux blinked calmly.

"My word, Commander, such language. And towards me, of all people. Though I'm certain I don't know what you're talking about. Your wife was quite crude when I ran into her and my fiancé; she interrupted what I thought was a perfectly appropriate and pleasant conversation."

"What happened?" Phasma hooked a chair with her ankle and dropped into it, her armor crashing loudly against the seat.

"Really, Commander, I'm in the middle of something, and I'm sure you have duties to-"

"- _Please_ , Hux, you know you aren't doing anything important, and my men are as trained as can be. Any more is pointless; they just await your order. Talk to me."

Clever eyes locked Hux's in place, and he scowled.

"I'm not even sure. Organa gave me a guideline for courtship, and I went and ordered some robes, and while I was picking them up, Kylo and your wife came into the store. I really think we were having a rather pleasant conversation, he and I, but your wife said... _something_ , it still doesn't make sense to me, and Ren went...cold. He turned all political again, and they left. I can't tell you what she was thinking, I can't tell you what it meant.

"Of course you can't." Phasma groaned softly, rubbing her temple. "You've got no emotion left in you but spite."

"He seemed quite comfortable talking; what else was I supposed to do?" Hux tried, tilting his seat so he faced Phasma. She grumbled, pulling her glove off.

"Look, I know I said Rey and I get on very well, even though we didn't have much time together, and while that's true, I sincerely doubt it'll work that well for you. And…" Phasma's eyes suddenly flitted elsewhere, distracted.

"And?"

"And I keep secrets from Rey, even now. And I know she keeps secrets from me, too. You're...you're not the kind of person who can risk that, should a scandal come out that you weren't aware of."

"What, you think your wife is cheating on you?"

"No, that couldn't be farther from it, actually; I think...I think that…" Phasma trailed off again, beginning again before Hux could speak. "I think something that I want to tell you as a friend, but cannot tell you as the Emperor."

Hux made an offended, angry sound, and Phasma extended a hand. "Listen to me; I trust you with my life. If it was something of larger consequence, you would already know, I swear. My point is that I think that when Rey isn't around me, or working in the Senate, I think she and Kylo sneak around. Maker knows what they get up to, but it's definitely something that has to end if you want to get married to him."

"How am I supposed to make that happen?" Hux asked, though he had carefully filed away Phasma's reluctance to share information on her wife.

"This courtship thing hasn't worked out that well for you, has it? Not in the way Leia wants it to."

"Well, no, but-"

"-You're not supposed to be alone together, but listen; you _need_ to be alone together. Spend time with one another. I joke that our honeymoon made Rey fall in love with me, but honestly? We didn't touch one another until the very last night, and, this is probably too much information, but our marriage wasn't consummated until almost a month after that. There's no way that someone like you can build a relationship that way, and there's no way Kylo would let you in unless he really felt like you loved him. He's just that kind of person...and you _really_ need him to trust you."

Hux chewed his lip idly as he thought.

"What did Rey say about Kylo?"

Phasma laughed.

"Now, you don't want me to share what my wife has told me in confidence, do you?"

Hux looked back at her with a dangerous glare. She laughed again, unphased. "They practically grew up together; do you want to hear about the time he fell out of a tree and broke his ankle, or would you rather hear about the first time he learned to fly?"

Hux swallowed a snort.

"I'd rather know more about what he's _like_. Things he likes to do, and doesn't, his personality...the kind of person he's attracted to."

Phasma gave a light hum as she pretended to think.

"Let's see...oh! He likes people who don't slap him in the face."

"Phasma…"

"Okay, okay. Just wanted to make sure you still remembered that. In all honesty, it's hard to tell much about him, especially now. He wears that makeup like a mask, and he's damn good at the part he plays. But there are times when he slips. Goes back to the way he was before, a little."

"Before when?"

Phasma looked at him strangely.

"You _really_ don't remember?"

Hux looked at her with bewilderment, shaking his head slowly. "He was Rey's best man! Maker, I knew you got drunk, but I didn't know it was _that_ bad!"

Hux gasped softly; as soon as she said it, he could see it clearly.

He had been sitting in the front row of Phasma's half of the crowd; though the wedding was remarkably political, it was also quite small. Phasma had next to no family to speak of, anyway, and her side was filled with officers, like then-General Hux. Rey's side was packed with a few political names, but mostly family and friends; Hux had seen a Wookie towering over people being forced to sit near the back.

He hated weddings, even then; not only had he snuck a flask into the ceremony, but he had already emptied it halfway by the time Rey's entourage came down the aisle, but he remembered him.

He hadn't known his name; he had just known that he scoffed as he walked by. The kid had hair past his shoulders loosely pulled back, a few live butterflies lazily hanging around the flowers pinning his hair in place. He was wearing soft black eyeliner on his upper lids, though Hux remembered how quickly it had slid down during the reception.

He remembered the way he moved, timid but ultimately knowing, soft-bottomed boots under loose, very pale pink pants, an even paler beige shirt hiding under a bright yellow jacket.

He remembered that Rey's dress had layers of pale pinks and yellows at the bottom, and remembered the butterflies that practically coated her veil.

He remembered Rey and the boy smiling brilliantly at one another, and the way his eyes suddenly skirted over towards Hux knowingly as they embraced tightly.

He only remembered flashes of the reception; he remembered Phasma dragging him with shocking force onto the dance floor, he remembered the music pounding loudly much later into the night; he remembered reluctantly doing shots until he could stack a pyramid out of the empty glasses; he remembered Phasma bowing to him for it, and also such a tease, for she knew even then of his ambitions; he remembered holding a yellow jacket close to his chest, the heat of it, and he remembered a butterfly crawling on his cheek, a shy giggle as he twitched with it; he remembered a soft, warm hand against his neck.

He stared at Phasma.

"No. That can't have been him."

He said immediately, though he couldn't even remember what they had done, and the boy certainly had never given Hux his name.

Phasma crossed her arms.

"He doesn't remember it either, and I don't think Rey does, for that matter, but that was Kylo Ren before he rose to the throne."

" _I_ can hardly remember anything…" Hux responded idly, rubbing his temple.

He flushed suddenly; he remembered one thing, and he was certain of it.

He remembered soft, plush lips pressing against the corner of his own so, _so_ lightly, and he remembered the warmth leaving his neck, the jacket being pulled away from his hands.

Had he dragged the jacket closer, or had he just wanted to? He could hardly tell; he hadn't even thought about the wedding since the morning after it, when he woke with such a pounding headache he nearly checked himself into the medical bay.

Phasma laughed.

"I didn't think he was all that much, but you and I both know you were just drinking up your courage."

"That's not true." Hux snapped, but there was no conviction in his voice.

"You spent a good two _hours_ working on him, and he was either incredibly drunk or totally smitten; obviously, it was the first."

"I don't chase people down." Hux defended, but he wasn't so sure anymore.

"The last I remember, you tucked him into a corner, and he just laughed! He kissed your cheek, I think, and he left! You drank alone after; you didn't even want to talk to me!"

"How does it matter if he can't even remember it?!" Hux nearly wailed, hiding his face in his hands.

"How am I supposed to win him when he didn't even want anything to do with me then?!"

Phasma's hand rested on his shoulder, comforting.

"You spoke for a long while, and he knew that there wasn't any separation from your military presence and you as a person. I think that that was what took you out. I know that there is a softness in you, Armie; I know that because you don't like it when people call you 'Armie', and if I wasn't me, I'd probably already be dead. You need to get to him one-on-one, and leave your militant disposition with your military, if you want him to leave his political disposition with politics."

Hux took a heavy breath.

"Okay, well, how am I supposed to get one-on-one with him? His schedule is constantly packed during the day, and he's got security everywhere.

Phasma grinned.

"Don't worry. I've got an idea."


	8. Chapter 8

"This is the worst idea you've ever had." Hux hissed, looking up at the balcony four floors above and then to Phasma.

She shrugged with a giddy laugh.

"You'll never get alone with him otherwise." She whispered.

"If I get caught by anyone, I'm dead. If I can't make it up there, I'm dead."

Phasma waved her hand.

"You'll be completely fine, you just need to jump to the emergency escape from here, and then from the top of it to his balcony."

Hux glanced down at the ten floors' worth of balconies under them.

"This is idiotic." He groaned.

"Hey, you wouldn't even change out of your uniform, what was I supposed to do? You want to see him, don't you?"

Hux didn't respond.

"You want to marry him, right?"

"Obviously. That'll happen no matter what." Hux snapped, glancing back at the open door that led to a nice, safe elevator, back to the first floor, back to his ship, back to living a blissful life of arranged marriage and meaningless wedding vows.

"Well, do you want to love him? _Fuck_ him?"

Phasma pressed, still glimmering with excitement.

Hux set his jaw.

"That's very inappropriate, Phasma."

"But I'm not wrong!" She preened.

Hux scowled, and in a few choppy, awkward movements, scaled the railing.

"I'm going to die." He groaned.

"You can do it!" Phasma insisted.

Hux took a deep breath, though his heart was pounding against his ribs anyway, and leapt.

He shrieked shortly in a very undignified way, but then his chest made contact with metal, and he was holding a rung of the fire escape ladder for dear life.

Phasma cheered quietly.

"Now just climb!"

Four floors went by too quickly, and all of a sudden, Hux was hanging underneath Kylo's balcony. He could just barely peek his head up between the railing, but paused.

The doors were wide open.

Kylo wasn't alone.

The balcony lead straight into a living room, sleek and fashionable, with the several different screens mounted on the wall and most of the seating recessed into the floor.

Thanks to that, he had a clear view of the kitchen, equally sleek, where Kylo Amidala was sitting on a countertop, a bowl next to him, and a man had pulled up a chair, Kylo's leg in his lap.

He lifted a cloth and dunked it into the bowl, which Hux realized was full of bloody water.

"You _really_ should just use your medical droid...these wounds are…"

Kylo gasped in a sharp breath abruptly. He twitched, and the man stopped moving. Kylo wasn't wearing anything, Hux realized, and had a blanket resting in his lap. All of his makeup had been cleaned away; his hair had been loosely tied up.

He was coated in bruises and cuts, which were slowly being bandaged.

Who was this man, that Kylo trusted him so closely?

Hux stared. He risked another step to get a better view, and stared.

Kylo looked so utterly _different_ without the makeup, without the lavish clothes.

Hux couldn't help but have the urge to burst into the room, scoop up the Amidala, _his_ Amidala, and whisk him off to the nearest medical droid himself. He seemed nothing short of battered, wincing just to lift his arm to wipe blood away from a slowly oozing cut on his shoulder.

"The droid records every injury it treats, and they're remarkably easy to hack...if anyone knew that information, it could easily be linked to-ah!"

Kylo cut himself off with a strangled cry as he pulled a sharp piece of what looked like shrapnel from the wound on his shoulder. It clattered to the counter from trembling hands.

" _Hell_ , Benny! How close were you?!"

"Closer than Rey, thank the Force. Most of it landed in my shoulder, but the pieces are...everywhere."

He swallowed another pained sound as the man wrapped his leg in a long stretch of bandage.

"How are you supposed to keep this a secret when you get married? Not even Rey gets this badly wounded."

Kylo tried to shrug, but it seemed to cause immense pain.

"Well, Rey is also quite intimate with her wife. She takes great care to use medical droids from other places. I'll just...clean up my scars once they're almost healed. Almost all my clothes cover any wounds I could possibly get."

The man set his jaw.

"You know what I mean. The Emperor...takes what he wants. Can't you tell?"

"Of course I can." Kylo suddenly sounded defeated. The man finished wrapping his leg and looked up, beginning to poke at his shoulder. "But he's...so strange. Besides, Poe, do you really think _I_ would let someone touch me if I didn't want them to?"

The man, Poe, didn't respond right away.

"I just…I don't even want to _think_ about him touching you. He's...he's not good enough for you, Ben."

Kylo laughed weakly.

"I'm sure you think nobody is, but that's your job. What else is a good friend good for, if not thinking too highly of you?" He teased. But his mood changed quite abruptly. "I tried to make the separation, you know. Where the emperor ends and the man starts. But...it was so blurry, so uneven...it was like there wasn't a separation at all."

"So call off the wedding." The man nearly snapped, clearly tense. "Rey hates him, you know."

"I do know, but that's just part of her. She's far more like my father than her own."

"You're too much like Luke, then." Poe responded. "Why won't you just call off the wedding? You can pass the rest of the treaty without the marriage, I'm sure."

"I'm not." Kylo responded honestly. "I truly do think that, if I do not give at least the sacrifice of my ring finger, then Emperor Hux will refuse the sacrifice of the privacy of the plans of the First Order. We cannot lose the chance to have such valuable information."

"If you still plan to take apart the First Order, what happens to you when you're in bed with its leader?"

Kylo laughed.

"You act like I'll ever be in his bed. The man thinks of nothing but _conquer_ and _command_ ; you act like I would ever actually be even remotely intimate with someone like that. I've never been intimate with...anyone. For good reasons, and you know them."

"Rey didn't follow the rules, and she's fine."

"She's fine because her wife doesn't want children! I'm already oversensitive because not only my mother, but also my grandfather, broke that rule, and you know as well as I that a man like Hux will someday demand a legacy, and probably a biological one. I could never have a biological child; they would be destroyed just from existing."

"So what happens when Hux wants children even if you refuse? He's the Emperor until he either steps down or is murdered; you'll only be Queen for another year, at most, and after that the best you can be is a Senator. You won't be on even playing ground anymore."

"I'll use mind control." Kylo said casually, like it was even a real thing, and Poe laughed.

"Alright, this conversation is not over, but you're beginning to scab; come on, that shrapnel needs to come out."

He stepped away. Kylo made a short sound and dropped his head, closing his eyes.

The countertop trembled just barely, and Kylo made weak pained noises as bits of metal _began to float out of him_.

Hux gaped.

There was no way he was seeing what he was seeing. An almost familiar heaviness came pressing into his senses, a blanket of calm draping over his mind.

Suddenly, though, all the bits came crashing down, and Kylo jumped up, almost collapsing with a shocked noise.

" _Someone's here!"_

"What?!" Poe cried, immediately scanning the room and reaching towards a small tube of metal on the counter.

"Wait." Kylo demanded, grabbing Poe's wrist and draping the blanket over his body. He looked down at the floor, seeming to concentrate hard.

He gasped again, and suddenly seemed to flush.

"Go home, Poe." Kylo murmured softly. "I'll take care of this."

Poe looked uncertainly from the bloodied counter to Kylo, but saw the look on his face and retreated slowly.

"I will see you again soon, Poe. Goodnight." Kylo said calmly.

"Good...goodnight." Poe responded, still tense as he left.

Kylo limped away, deeper into the flat, and called out,

"Won't you come in, Emperor Hux?"

Hux's breath stopped in his throat.

There was a sound from inside, and Kylo spoke again. "I know it's you out there; come inside, before my security shoots you off that ladder."

Hux briefly considered his options, and upon discovering that he really didn't have any options, climbed up a few more rungs and leapt awkwardly from the ladder to the balcony railing.

He stepped into the living space obediently, unable to bring himself to speak or try to defend himself.

The balcony doors closed behind him, but when he turned, he didn't see any automatic sensors. He looked about with admitted curiosity.

Out of view of the balcony, the open space split into a third 'room', with a dining table and a long bench on one side, chairs on the other. The room backed up against the kitchen's counter, with stools neatly pushed up to it.

There was a wall separating the living room from what Hux assumed was the bedroom, if the other balcony outside and the paper sliding doors set into the living room wall meant anything, but it did not go all the way up to the vaulted ceiling; he could see the exposed rafters on the other side.

There were two bookshelves loosely framing another door on the same wall as the door that lead out of the flat, across from the wall to the bedroom. These bookshelves were filled with mostly books but a few trinkets, too, though nothing blatantly personal. There were additional individual shelves placed impossibly high on the wall in the dining room opposite the bedroom, above even where the partial walls to the bedroom stopped, yet they were somehow stuffed with books too.

The space was mostly blacks and whites and chromes and glass, but each room had an accent color; the kitchen's was red, with the tile backsplash having a few crimson squares here and there, a bright red knife block, and, ironically, the blood still splattered on the counter; the living room's was purple, deep indigo in a glass bottle on the bookshelf and softer yet equally rich lilac in the pillows on the couches; the dining room's was green, vibrant lime in the light fixture and the seat cushions.

Light danced behind the paper doors, and Hux fought the urge to throw them open, catch Kylo while he was still covered in wounds, force him to tell the truth and seek true medical help.

No sooner had he thought that than Kylo's voice filled the air.

"So, Emperor. I did not take you for a stalker. Or a pervert, for that matter."

"I'm neither of those things." Hux tried, sounding like a child with his hand in the sweets jar.

"No? Why, then, may I ask, were you in such a dangerous position, just to spy on my home? I thought you would have hired someone else to do that, at the least."

There was a sound like a pen being capped from within the bedroom.

Hux cleared his throat.

"I...I had wanted to see you. I-I mean, not _see_ you, I...wanted to speak with you. To, er, be in your company." He finished awkwardly.

There was a long stretch of silence, and then Kylo's voice came back, pitchy and almost shaking.

"Are we not still working on security resolutions? We would have seen one another in a little under five hours, but considering that it is the middle of the night, that's not terribly long."

"That's exactly why I wanted to see you, now. I...I wanted to leave politics at their table."

Another long silence.

The door suddenly slid open, and Kylo stepped out, arms crossed.

He had put on a floor-to-chin house robe, but it was made of moderately sheer black fabric and edged with heavy black lace; clearly, it was the first thing he had seen that would hide his bandages.

He seemed to have spent the rest of his time applying makeup, and rubbing at it until it looked like he had been wearing it for hours (Hux had to admit, he had done a good job). His hair was loose and hanging partially in his face.

Had Hux not known better, it would have looked like he had just woken up.

But, heavily made up and hidden under dark fabric, Hux felt like Kylo was trying to mask every part of himself.

"Oh?" Kylo asked, and Hux had to think hard about what he had been saying. "And what, then, did you want to discuss?"

Kylo stepped into the room, closing the door to the bedroom behind him.

"Anything else." Hux responded immediately. Kylo hummed softly, as if nothing that had just transpired had.

Indeed, Hux's own memories were beginning to fade sharply; what was that man's name, again?

"What man, Hux?" Kylo asked softly, and Hux's eyebrows shot up, his whole body tensing.

"I-I-Did I say that aloud?" He responded.

"Say what?" Kylo asked, tilting his head calmly.

What _had_ Hux said?

How had he gotten here? Why was he here?

"You wanted to speak to me, I'd asked you about what." Kylo spoke, moving past Hux and into the living room. Was he limping? Why?

Kylo slowly reclined into one of the corners of the squarish couch, softly lifting a hand to his temple. He winced almost unnoticeably, a glistening dark ring blooming from his shoulder. Hux knew why, he _knew_ , but it was like he was trying to see his own memory in water in his hands, and it was trickling away.

"I suppose...I would like to talk about you." Hux said lowly, dumbly pleased with how surprised Kylo seemed.

"Emperor, you know everything you must about me, I'm sure."

"I don't think so, not if I'm to marry you."

Kylo laughed suddenly, a sharp bark.

"I should hope that you're to marry me, considering you asked! Really, now, don't make me regret agreeing."

Kylo ended with a dainty sort of sigh, closing his eyes and yawning.

Had Hux woken him? It was certainly quite late out.

Hux looked up, and saw a bowl on the counter, surrounded by blood, and through the stupidity of his own thoughts, recognized it.

"What happened? Why is there so much blood?"

Kylo looked calmly from the kitchen back to Hux, and stood again.

"That isn't blood, do not worry. Don't you remember? I was working when you came in, you startled me. I knocked over my inkwell."

"My apologies." Hux responded immediately, though he admittedly remembered nothing of the sort.

Kylo's lips curved up gently. "Where are your handmaids? Aren't they supposed to always be by your side?" Hux asked blankly.

Kylo laughed.

"They do not stand around me at the discussion table, do they? Won't you sit down, Emperor? I'm sure you've had a long trip up here."

As obediently as anything, Hux stepped down into the recessed space, sitting in the opposite corner. Kylo seemed pleased.

"We're going to be married." Hux stated dumbly, just trying to start with something concrete. Kylo looked down, looked away. "Do you honestly want to be?"

Kylo looked up. He moved forward. His brown eyes seemed to flash with red.

"Do you?" He asked back.

Hux swallowed heavily.

Kylo smiled darkly. "I thought so."

Slowly, wearily, Kylo closed his eyes.

He sighed softly, and the painful heaviness slowly retreated from Hux's thoughts, but as soon as it was gone, it was as if it had never been there.

Kylo slid just slightly closer. He looked past Hux, to the stars outside, melancholic.

Hux watched in silence until it was unbearable.

"Your mother doesn't want you to get married to me. Your friends don't, either." Hux continued, feeling his confidence trickle away. Kylo made a short sound, like he wanted to laugh but didn't have the energy.

"It's not just because of you." Kylo began softly. "My mother is...a strange, brilliant woman. She knows full well of the situation, but as much as she believes in doing what is right for one's people, she also believes that you should only intimately attach yourself to people you truly care about...that you should only become close with someone because you love them, I suppose."

"Now, wait, which one does she feel you are doing?"

Kylo looked at Hux, unimpressed, and Hux did his best to shrug it off. "I'm just trying to ease the tension." He admitted.

Kylo almost smiled.

He moved slightly closer again.

"I can't say I honestly have much reason to marry anyone outside of politics. I've little to no interest in such attachments."

"Well...what would you like to happen, after we're married?" Hux asked, watching Kylo's face.

It seemed that Kylo hadn't thought that far ahead.

"I...I should like to remain quite as I am, though I know we are required to at least have a home we say we live in together. I must always be attentive of my people."

Kylo's shoulders eased, and the robe fell open just enough to expose a partial bandage. Hux had a single flash of recollection.

"Your people and your secrets. What are you hiding, Amidala?" He demanded.

Kylo sighed, resigned, and slipped closer. His shoulder was now almost touching Hux's.

"I hadn't wanted to do this, you know." He said softly.

Hux didn't have the time to ask what before Kylo had held his face with both hands. He brushed Hux's hair back, gently pressed his thumbs into his temples, and Hux collapsed forward against Kylo's chest. He found that he could not move, and Kylo shushed him briefly.

Hux blacked out.


	9. Chapter 9

Hi, everybody! If you have made it this far into my works, please consider supporting me! I love writing, and putting these out for free, but unfortunately fanfiction just doesn't give revenue, something I need to survive as a creator.  
If you're interested in art, cosplay, and more writing like this, you can check out my , Last Life Creations, where exclusive art and images are released, as well as excerpts from my fanfiction chapters before they're published.  
If you prefer physical things to hold and have and snuggle, you can check out my Redbubble, lastlifecreator, for everything from shirts to stickers with cosplay and art on it (I have several Ciel designs).  
If you're interested in any kind of commission-art, costumes, writing- or if you like soft, cute, squishy things, stay tuned on my instagram lastlifecreations to contact me!  
(If you've been invested in my work for this long, I think I deserve it!)

All three of those options will also give you some information on the comic I'm working on, which, if you like these writings, you'll definitely want to check out, and thank you so much!

Hux groaned.

He had a horrible, pounding headache, and his alarm was not helping, bleeping angrily.

He opened his eyes.

He was lying in his bed, in his room on the Finalizer, but he had this sinking feeling that it wasn't where he had been last.

He sat up slowly.

His boots were neatly tucked against his bed; he could see his jacket folded over his desk chair through the open door. Other than that, he was still wearing yesterday's uniform, his tags on the nightstand. He shut his alarm off, and groaned.

This headache was _awful_.

He had stood before he realized he had his hand clenched into a fist, and was holding something. He opened his hand, and found several strands of loose, dark hair.

 _Kylo_.

Hux sat back down, holding his head tightly, but it was as if someone had taken a hole punch to his receipt of last night; he clearly remembered standing in Kylo's flat, though he couldn't remember how he gotten there. There had been bloody red ink on the countertop, and Kylo had been sitting down, inviting him to join, but though it was almost constantly swimming through his head, Hux could not actually remember what Kylo's face had looked like last night.

He stood again, unsure of what he was meant to do with what little information he had left.

A cold jump through the fresher and a hot cup of caf later, and though he looked fine, Hux was still no better off. He smoothed his hair into place as he inspected his face closely in the mirror.

There seemed to be no difference, other than how continually his frown lines deepened. Yet his brow seemed softened. He practiced a stern face, and then a surprised one. The brief lines he had created by frowning disappeared almost immediately.

As he went back into his office, lifting his jacket, he discovered that Phasma had called no less than twenty-four times last night. He sat down with a quiet sigh and a glance at the clock.

"Hux? Kriffing hell, what happened?! You never called me, never let me know if you had gotten in, or if you had come ho-are you still there? _Did you sleep with him?!_ "

"Phasma, slow down, I-no, first of all, I'm back at home-how else would I be calling you?-anyway, I'm fine, I suppose, suppose I'm just a little confused still...I'm having a hard time recalling what happened last night. I-I think something's wrong with me."

"'Wrong with you'? I'll be honest, you sound a little hungover, but not that much. Did you drink? Does Kylo drink?"

"N-no, I didn't drink, I don't know if he drinks, I-I think I interrupted him while he was working...he spilled ink all over...but it looked like he had just woken up..?"

Hux rubbed his temple roughly. "Like I said...something feels _wrong_. Off."

There was silence on the other end. "I mean, like, I _remember_ things, but not others…but it still feels like they happened..? I know, I know it doesn't make any-"

"-No." Phasma interrupted suddenly, softly. "I...I know exactly what that feels like, actually…"

Phasma sighed from the other end.

"I told you I thought Rey was keeping secrets… because I get that same feeling. Like I found her doing something, but whenever I try to think back on it...it's like I can't remember what I caught her doing, or if I caught her doing anything, and then there are...moments. Lapses in my memory that _I know are real_ , they're so... _visceral_ , but…"

"...But you're not sure they're actually there?" Hux finished.

"Yeah."

He didn't respond; he didn't know what he was supposed to say.

They sat in silence for a long while, before he spoke.

"What do...what do you do? When you get those feelings?"

"There's nothing I can do, really." Phasma responded slowly. "Except accuse my wife of lying to me because I don't feel good, or...something like that. I really couldn't accuse her of anything, because all I had were half-formed memories I wasn't sure were even real."

Hux pressed his hand to his mouth as he stared at the wall, thinking.

"What am I supposed to do?" He finally asked.

Phasma laughed.

"Well, what _can_ you do?" She asked. "If you want to confront him, is it really worth the possibility of losing not just your relationship with him, but also our relationship to the Republic?"

Hux knew the answer, and Phasma knew it, too.

So he didn't respond.

Kylo gave absolutely no impression of _anything_ when Hux walked into the conference room, late, eyes slightly red and puffy.

He lifted his head politely, a curl of hair falling over his shoulder, face so heavily coated with makeup that not even his beauty marks could be seen.

His robe was collared high, all the way up to his chin, and the sleeves bled all the way to his middle fingertips, hem spread all around his seat on the floor. It was one Hux had purchased for him.

Save for his hair, loose and free and wild, he was completely covered.

"My apologies for my lateness, your highness." Hux began, before he had even bothered to sit. "I fear that I had a…rather unusual morning."

Kylo's lip twitched, Hux saw it.

"It's not as if we could have started without you, Emperor. Now, we are safe to commence."

Kylo only lifted his right hand as he spoke, where he usually would have lifted both.

Hux wanted to flinch as he sat down, thinking, thinking _so hard_ , but he just couldn't figure out why Kylo was suddenly short of breath as he crossed his legs primly under the table.

As the moderator stood, reciting the pages set out before her, Kylo was suddenly caught by a small coughing fit.

He did his best to recover silently, lifting a glass of water softly to his crimson lips.

Hux's mind was suddenly filled with an image he had been building for several weeks, fully realized by the sight of Kylo now; Kylo, the robe Hux had bought for him torn carelessly from his shoulders, kneeling between Hux's legs, makeup smeared and tracking and hair mussed and loose, hands and mouth wrapped around something much more important than that glass of water.

Hux's back shocked straight and he pushed his chair as close to the table as possible to hide his sudden erection, and at the end of the table, Kylo choked on his water.

He made a weak gagging sound and immediately covered the lower half of his face with a hand, coughing and trying desperately to sound like he wasn't. Flushing deeply, Kylo locked eyes with Hux for only a second, before looking deliberately away. He gave a final choked cough and squinted his eyes closed, pulling his shoulders back and trying to resume the politically-respectful air of a monarch.

Hux looked on in surprise, and slight guilt, legs crossed tightly at his ankles. Still, though, the fantasy was playing in his head, made stronger every moment by the sight of the Queen's flustered skin and shaking breaths, and he was beginning to imagine weaving his hands through that mane of dark hair, pulling his head back to look him in those beautiful brown eyes, when he had a thought that hardly felt like his own:

 _How inappropriate_.

"My goodness, Kylo, are you alright?" Hux managed, chest swelling at the thought of the man choking on something else entirely.

"You would like to know, I'm sure." Kylo responded darkly, brushing his hair back as if offended.

Hux had a short flash of guilt, and he reluctantly forced his daydream to the back of his mind. Leia looked to her son, and then Hux, darkening visibly. Kylo placed his hand on her arm, and she looked away tersely. Hux watched the encounter in dumbfounded bewilderment.

He didn't remember much about his own mother, but he felt confident that no parent just _had_ a connection so close to their child.

Had he told her about what had transpired the night before?

…What _had_ transpired the night before?

The moderator had paused, but since resumed speaking, and Kylo had recovered enough to languidly respond, respectfully bored, politically disinterested.

Hux watched Kylo's mouth as he spoke, watched as his chest rose and fell with short, shallow breaths, and made a decision.

He was going to sneak back into Kylo's flat tonight.

He had another thought, a calculated, clever one that hardly felt like him.

 _Mm, too soon. Wait until tomorrow night_.

He glanced around the table, watching Kylo's eyes flit away.

Yes, yes, it would be a poor idea to go back so soon, especially as Kylo hadn't seemed to take the initial sight of him too well...maybe he should have brought a gift, maybe he would bring a gift, though no plants, certainly, and no more clothes, Kylo seemed to have enough of those already…

"Emperor Hux?" The moderator tried, meekly, and Hux looked up from where he'd been spacing out at the wood grain on the table.

"Er...repeat the statement, please."

The moderator glanced furtively back towards Kylo, and Hux suddenly realized that Kylo had been watching him.

"You were asked if your pilot training program has been modified to accommodate the new travel regulations, and if your graduated pilots had been notified of the changes.

"Ah. Yes. Of course." Hux cleared his throat. "Uh, yes, to the latter, no to the former. I would have to refer to our timetables, but I believe the new regulations will be implemented next quarter."

The advisor to Hux's left passed him several pages of the new training program, and he recited it dully.

As he spoke, he glanced towards Kylo again.

He was watching Hux intently, as if devastatingly interested in hearing this document, but instead of his usual positions with his hands near his face, his arms were crossed tightly across his chest.

Hux remembered blood. No, ink, Kylo had spilled...red ink...from a bowl...in his kitchen. It had been ink, Kylo had said so, Hux had watched it drip from...from Kylo's shoulder..?

Kylo cleared his throat shortly, and it must have been the smooth sound of Kylo's voice that made him feel so warm, made his vision go just a little fuzzy. It was like soft hands, pressing his temples gently.

He couldn't remember what he had been thinking about.

Well, if he couldn't remember, it must not have been too important.

He crossed his legs at the ankle, and handed the papers in his hands off.


	10. Chapter 10

Hi, everybody! If you have made it this far into my works, please consider supporting me! I love writing, and putting these out for free, but unfortunately fanfiction just doesn't give revenue, something I need to survive as a creator.

If you're interested in art, cosplay, and more writing like this, you can check out my , Last Life Creations, where exclusive art and images are released, as well as excerpts from my fanfiction chapters before they're published.

If you prefer physical things to hold and have and snuggle, you can check out my Redbubble, lastlifecreator, for everything from shirts to stickers with cosplay and art on it (I have several Ciel designs).

If you're interested in any kind of commission-art, costumes, writing- or if you like soft, cute, squishy things, stay tuned on my instagram lastlifecreations to contact me!

(If you've been invested in my work for this long, I think I deserve it!)

I'll be opening an etsy once I have 200 instagram followers, and there will be 4 (four!) Star Wars stickers available, so please help me out!

All three of those options will also give you some information on the comic I'm working on, which, if you like these writings, you'll definitely want to check out, and thank you so much!

((There is a facebook page as well, but it doesn't get updated nearly as much))

-/-

Poe pulled at his neck, aware of the muscles aching there.

He scooted away from the underside of the _Millenium Falcon_ , groaning as he saw the burns still sitting there resolutely.

"Han's gonna kill me, when I die."

"I'll do it for him, and save you the trouble of waiting."

Kylo Amidala floated into the hangar, pulling his hair away from his face with restricted and awkward movements, pulling irritably at the high-necked collar of his robe.

Poe suddenly felt grimy and unclean as Kylo leaned in, kissing his forehead gently.

"What's wrong?" Kylo asked, rolling his sleeves up gingerly, freeing himself from the gloves underneath, managing to get his hair tied back with one hand.

Poe ran his hand over Kylo's shoulder, receiving a pained sigh as Ben came back to himself. "...It doesn't hurt, really. It's just sore."

Poe retracted his hand tensely. He tossed his screwdriver onto a nearby tray, turning back to the open panels he was trying to piece back together.

"Poe…" Ben started softly, standing with no small amount of difficulty.

"Stay out of my head." Poe demanded, sharper than he probably meant.

"I don't need to be in your head to know what's going on in it." Ben chuckled, resting his hand on Poe's shoulder, now. "You did your best. We're _safe_ , Poe; you've done well."

Poe closed his eyes and tried not to think about how soft Ben's lips had been against his forehead.

Ben rubbed Poe's shoulder gently, and Poe knew he wanted to hug him, but it was too much strain on his injuries.

Poe took a deep breath, smelling oil and smoke.

"It's still better than the first time I tried to fly."

Ben laughed, not his quick, barking laugh, but his soft, real one.

He remembered sitting against the door to Kylo's flat, ear pressed to the door, hearing that same laugh after something Hux had said, and...well. The groovelike cuts on his hands were faded now.

Poe wondered briefly how he could ever live with himself, how he was living with himself now.

Ben made another soft sound, sinking slowly to his knees and leaning his cheek between Poe's shoulders with no small amount of difficulty.

His weight was gentle, warm, and familiar.

He would not force Poe to speak until he was ready, he knew, but he still didn't know how he was supposed to tell if Ben was in his head or not.

He was just close enough to being sensitive that he _always_ felt the force pressing in on him; if there was a slightly stronger push, he would barely know.

Though, he considered and Ben sighed again, turning his head so his other cheek rested against Poe, if he knew what Poe was thinking, he would _never_ touch him.

"Ben, please, _please_ , remember this. Remember the risks we take. Remember the injuries they leave when we...when _I_ fail. It doesn't even have to be something you did. Remember this when _he_ demands to know what you do behind closed doors." Poe begged softly, fists tightening again.

Ben did not move from his position, hands still at Poe's elbows.

Poe's voice hung dead in the silence between them, and somewhere, distantly, Ben began to speak.

"I did not want this." He whispered, his voice not daring to echo in the hangar.

No sooner had Poe realized that the weight on his back was a ghost of his own thoughts than Ben curled up against the landing post of the Falcon, pulling his knees to his chest like a lost child. His skirts flowed into a huge circle around him, a black hole with a pale face.

"Just because I agreed to it does not mean I wanted it. Consent isn't always so rigid." He continued, Kylo rising under his heavy-lashed eyes.

Poe didn't dare to move.

"I did not lie, when I told you there was no choice. Now that you've seen him, surely you must also see that. I did only what I knew was best for my people. There is no other choice than that."

Still, Poe didn't respond. How was he supposed to?

Ben did not continue.

Silence became something worse, painfully forcing its way into Poe's ears, until it was finally too much, and he lifted his wrench once more. He began loosening a charred panel noisily, letting it clatter horrifically as he threw it away. He felt Ben shudder through the body of the ship.

"I don't understand why you're so uncomfortable with letting us in...I can't help but wonder if, even after all these years, you still hide something from us…"

Poe threw his wrench as hard as he could towards the ground, where it went spinning wildly away.

"Don't you _dare-_ " He snarled as angrily as he could muster.

"-I've dared nothing but wonder about you, Poe." Kylo interrupted coolly, pressing his collar against his throat. "And you have done nothing but prove what I had no reason to ask."

As soon as Poe realized his wrench had never actually hit the floor, it was coming to rest back in his hand, and Kylo was standing at the door he had entered through.

Poe choked on a sob.

"Please, Ben, I'm not-I never wanted-I just thought I _mattered_ to you." He begged, unsure of what he was begging for, feeling the universe around him crumble.

In the time it took for Poe to realize that Ben hadn't actually pushed his way into Poe's head, and that Poe had said too much, Kylo was shrinking in confusion.

"What are you talking about, Poe?"

The pilot swallowed heavily. That was all he was, after all, wasn't he? Just a pilot, not an emperor, certainly not an equal to Ben, not anymore.

"Nothing." He responded hoarsely. "I'm just...not thinking clearly. Too much smoke."

He tried to turn away, but Kylo's hands were there, on his shoulders, and as Poe forced himself to look into Kylo's eyes, found that he was crying.

Poe shuddered, and tried to step back.

"How-What can you mean? Do you think you don't matter to me?"

Ben's voice was broken and raw, hurt and shocked.

Poe could _feel_ his pupils dilating as Ben choked in a quiet sob. "Poe, you're _everything_ to me. How did I ever make you feel otherwise?" Ben whispered, letting tears fall into his makeup, as hurt as Poe had ever seen him, and Poe leaned in and kissed him.

Ben stiffened sharply, but he did not push Poe away.

Poe knew Ben didn't want this, but it was too late to stop, he couldn't have stopped this.

Ben _still_ didn't understand.

Poe held Ben's neck and tilted his head, pressing his mouth against Ben's unmoving lips, knowing he was smearing red all across both of their faces.

He pushed, harder than he meant to, and Ben let himself be pushed against the door, either too in shock still to register what was happening or too horrified to move.

Poe didn't stop; how could he? At best, he would never see Ben again after this, at worst Hux would kill him, and there seemed to be very few middle possibilities. The hand not holding Ben's neck in place wrapped around his waist, pulling him as close as possible, like Poe could use his entire body to say what words wouldn't suffice. Every moment he held Ben, he felt him slipping further away; that child with the long hair and pale clothes and shy skittishness that Poe quite literally smashed into, so many years ago, the child who had grown into a lanky and uneven teenager with a soft gait forced heavy, power brewing under his skin like a storm as all around him desperately tried to quell his tempest, that teenager who was forced too quickly into the feeble adulthood that Poe was trying to stave off now, Ben was slipping away from him.

Seconds faded into desperation, time no longer relevant as Poe sharply tilted his head the other way, as if he could force emotion back into the boy who was born with too much. He should have done this so long ago. Maybe if he had, Ben wouldn't have slipped away into Kylo, Kylo wouldn't be slipping away now, like he was fading through the door Poe had shoved him against.

It was too long, now; Ben either had to push him away or start kissing back, he couldn't just stay still and let Poe do this.

But he did. He let Poe hold him, press him against the door, smear his makeup, and he did not make any attempt to resist or accept. He was just there, unyielding and unknowing, and finally Poe could kiss him no longer.

There was no warmth to Ben, no love, and try as Poe did to share that with him, it could not have worked.

He broke away slowly, letting go of Ben's neck, then his waist, finally stepping away.

"I needed to do that." Poe murmured, as if it could explain away everything he had done. He turned away, as if he could force himself to not linger.

Ben tried to speak, several times, but his voice died before it left his mouth, and when Poe forced himself to look back, to see Ben, he was holding his hand up to his face, fingertips against swollen lips, like he could peel away all that had just happened. His eyes were wide and shocked, and his chest rose and fell quickly, unevenly.

"I never knew." He finally managed, voice as broken as it could be, tears dragging white makeup onto the neck of the robe he wore, one Poe was now fully recognizing had been a gift from his fiancé.

"I know you didn't." Poe managed, but only barely. A high sob keened out of him, like a cheap dish being broken, and Ben sank to his knees. Poe followed only numbly, not daring to touch Ben as he closed his own hands around his shoulders.

"Why didn't you ever say anything? Poe, why did you wait until now?" Ben begged, and Poe saw that child again, the boy who did cry when Poe got too in-his-face, who cried harder when Poe was pushed away from him by some invisible force, but it was still the boy who carried Poe, the unconscious child who had scared the living hell out of him, all the way back to the medical tent, and waited until he woke up.

Ben was still Ben, he always had been.

Poe still loved him, as he always had.

From when he woke up so many years ago with watery brown eyes watching him and a cold pale hand holding his, to now, a child of hope in the body of a resistance leader, crumpled on the floor from the pressure of being a force and not a person, Poe loved him.

And now, he finally knew.

"Ben, _please,_ I…"

Ben held his hands out, not raising his eyes, and Poe knelt. He took Ben's hands in his, and let Ben into his mind.

He opened himself to all of it -how else could he possibly make Ben know?- and he allowed Ben to walk through his memories, his thoughts, like he was standing to the side of every time Poe thought of him. Every glance, every touch, that Poe held onto, Ben could see, but if he could feel, Poe could not know.

The Ben before him gave a sob, shaking in his hands, and the one he let into his head faded away again.

Ben wept, more makeup now tracked onto his neck than on his face, and knotted hand into his hair.

"How didn't I see? How didn't I know? Poe," Ben gasped, looking up to him, holding his hands to his chest, "why didn't you ever tell me?"

Poe stood, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"I never thought I'd have to." He responded hollowly.

He looked back only after he heard the door close.

-/-

Hux gave a groan, and finally crushed his cigarette under his heel, having burned it as far as he possibly could.

He had wandered down into the lower levels of the building after the downright debacle that was the meeting upstairs, needing desperately to smoke somewhere the paparazzi couldn't see. This awful headache _still_ wouldn't go away.

The door on the other side of the trash bin he was hiding behind slid open, and he stood hastily, pulling his uniform taught.

Kylo Amidala stumbled into the hallway, a breathy sob escaping him as the door shut again, turning about frantically.

"Amidala..? What's happened to you?!" Hux cried as Kylo turned to see who was there, panic rising as he saw his face, tear tracks staining his robe, lipstick smeared across his face in a streak of angry red, chest heaving wildly, like an animal that had spent its entire life caged and was suddenly set loose.


	11. Chapter 11

Hux watched Kylo watch him, uncertain of what to do and dully aware that being caught like this would be horrible press.

Kylo didn't seem to recognize him at first, looking at him wildly like he really was a terrified beast. His fingers twitched, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

The queen stumbled a step back, drawing his hands to his chest.

"...Hux..?" He asked, barely a whimper. Immediately, Hux stepped forward, hands out as if he could push Kylo back into his body. Indeed, it felt like Kylo wasn't really there; someone else was standing in front of him in Kylo's skin, as if Kylo had shattered into the air.

Hux knew how ridiculous it sounded, but it had to be somehow true because every move he made closer to Kylo felt more difficult, like air and gravity were pushing him away.

"Kylo, what happened? You look like you've been attacked!"

Hux suddenly glanced to the door. What was on the other side of it?

He looked back to Kylo, making a short sound in his throat.

Kylo's hair seemed to be lifting up from his head slowly.

"Get-"

Kylo heaved a breath with intense difficulty, stepping backwards and curling forwards, bending at his hips like he was trying to protect his chest. "Get away from me!" He demanded, suddenly turning on his heel and darting around the corner.

"No, Kylo, wait!" Hux called out, far more commanding than he meant it to sound, giving chase.

He barely saw Kylo's heel and the final flourish of his robe flash around the next corner of the hallway, and distantly heard a pained cry as there was the unmistakable sound of a person falling to their knees.

Hux managed to follow to that next corner, damning himself for not training harder, and saw Kylo scramble to his feet again and push into a doorway at the end of the hall, blurry and almost too fast to register.

Huffing from the cardio he wasn't expecting to get that day, Hux followed as quickly as he could manage.

The door opened into a room with a long conference table, stacked high with boxes of paperwork and haphazard piles of unused furniture, dusty and forgotten.

Hux chased to the door at the other end of the room, but slowed as he reached about the middle of the room. His hands felt stiff, his mind sharper and clearer, and as he turned again, knew Kylo had not moved to the next room.

He placed a hand on top of the table to steady himself and crouched down.

Kylo Amidala was curled up under the table, holding his knees to his chest like a frightened child, and regarded Hux with such a wild terror that Hux had to _really_ fight the instinct to leave and act like none of this had happened.

Hux stared dumbly for a moment, and then cleared his throat, trying not to sound as winded as he was.

"Well," he began, "that was certainly energizing. Care to tell me what's got you so panicked?"

He asked it like he didn't really care to hear the answer, hoping it would snap Kylo back to some kind of indifference.

It didn't work.

"Go away." Kylo croaked, and he leaned his head back as he gasped sharply, grabbing at his shoulder.

Hux looked at the bottom of the young queen's face and saw a mark that definitely hadn't been caused by crying, a smear on his jaw that dragged around to the back of his neck.

"Now, that's not a good answer. You know I can't just _leave_ ; goodness, what would your mother say?" He tried, sitting on the ground. He felt equally childish, but really, wasn't Kylo known for temper tantrums? If there was ever a time for him to have one, it was definitely now.

Certainly, Kylo was shaking, and though he was desperately looking everywhere except at Hux, he could still see Kylo's mouth, red makeup smeared away from lips almost equally red underneath. "Please, Kylo, if something happened, can't you even tell your fiancé?"

Kylo suddenly gave a laugh, sharp and cruel, and it ended in a distressed sob too quickly, wrapping his hands around the back of his head and tucking it to his chest.

"You never proposed. We're just betrothed, not engaged." Kylo's muffled voice came through his knees, another sharp breath, followed quickly by a pained sob.

Hux crossed his legs.

"Would you rather I had proposed?" Hux asked casually. If Kylo wouldn't tell him what was wrong, the least he could do was sit around until Kylo did something.

Kylo's entire body shuddered.

"Don't talk about this. Not now." Kylo murmured, fingers tightening around his head.

Hux tried not to think about what _that_ meant.

It was odd; when he was around Kylo, usually his thoughts felt too heavy, warm and slow, but now, while the queen grieved some invisible loss, he was as cold and clear as ever before, and was still washed over with the want to crawl under the table and curl up next to Kylo like there was no danger to it at all.

He didn't, though.

He felt himself shudder, felt the hair at the back of his neck stand itself upright, and he had to exhale sharply and see his own breath to realize that the room was getting colder.

"Go away." Kylo said again. "I don't want to see you."

"And why not? Kylo, I swear, if someone has hurt you, I'll bring the full force of the First Order-"

Kylo gave a sob, sharp and high, and it silenced Hux effectively. "Kylo," he said quietly, though not softly, "let me help you. I'm sorry if that isn't good enough, but it's the only way I know how."

"No," Kylo began, lifting his head and resting his chin on his knees. He tucked them closer and raised his hands, so the bottom half of his face was covered still.

"You only know how to defend what is yours. I don't belong to you, Hux. I don't need to be defended. I just need to be left alone."

Hux's response died in his throat, and he stared. What else was he supposed to do?

Kylo sighed softly.

"You're not going to leave, are you?" He asked the wall to Hux's left.

"No." Hux answered, as easily and quickly as anything.

Kylo sighed again.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He murmured, tears spilling down his face again.

He gave a quiet whimper, and began to sob heavily, entire body shaking.

Hux leaned forward, knowing duty dictated it, and crawled forward in the least dignified way possible.

He reached out for Kylo, and almost immediately, Kylo was not there.

Hux gave a pained groan as he jumped, hitting his head on the underside of the table, retreating from under it as quickly as possible, but the door was already closing, not a single sound since Hux had begun to move forward.

Somewhere, distantly, he heard a pained shriek, a scream of loss, falling into loud, grievously wounded sobs, followed closely by loud crashing and some sound he couldn't recognize.

He followed it out into the hallway, back the way he had come, to a manual metal door.

The sounds within had fallen silent by the time Hux worked up the bravery to open the door, bracing himself and pushing it open in a single swift movement.

Kylo stood in front of a long-decommissioned control panel, which smoldered still with long blackened lashes across it. All the furniture that had been left in this space, what appeared to be a second storage room, was thrown about, things far too large for an individual person to lift alone, most of it equally smoldering.

Kylo stood facing away from him, hunched forward, and Hux watched a wet, red mark on Kylo's shoulder spread bloody wings into the fabric, some wound reopened by too much strain.

Hux, dully, was aware that he recognized that wound.

Kylo turned slowly, starting at his shoulders, and he looked at Hux without seeing.

His eyes were blank, and his mouth had gone pale, what of it that was left exposed from the defiled makeup.

He seemed to shrink, curl into himself once more, and he shook his hair, having been freed from a hasty knot at some point during his flight.

He stood straight, then, shoulders back, and stalked past Hux, still without seeing him.

And he was gone, just like that.

Hux didn't try to follow.

He stepped forward, into the middle of the room, watching the control panel smolder.

He dared to reach out to it, finding that heat radiated forward regardless, and knelt closely over the burns.

They _looked_ electrical, but…

He turned around again, not hoping to catch Kylo, not sure he even wanted to.

Reasonably, Kylo had made his position quite clear; he didn't want to see Hux and didn't want to talk.

...What was Hux even _doing_ , down here in the forgotten rooms of a useless government's useless building?

He tightened his hands in their gloves, too aware of how pointless they were on such a temperate planet, too proud to take them off.

He left the room, closing the door behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

Kylo's balcony doors were still open.

Hux had made no effort to be so stealthy as last time; he simply walked in.

The framed paper doors were open; Hux glanced in, though he knew how invasive, how childish, it was.

It was the queen's bedroom, who wouldn't want to know how a queen slept? The apartment as a whole was modest enough.

It took Hux a moment to realize that it even was a real bedroom, and not some kind of oversized children's dormitory.

The room was a rectangle with a partially open door at the other wall. Small floating lights hung from the ceiling like a canopy over the bed, which was high off the floor and half-made. The bedsheets were white, comforter black, a highly reflective white headboard installed directly onto the wall. A black dresser sat next to a vanity, filling the wall opposite the bed.

As Hux stepped further into the room, he heard something from the semiopen door across the room.

"Threepio, it's not so simple. You knew my grandfather better than anyone who's still alive. He wasn't _born_ evil...he didn't die that way, either."

Kylo was speaking to someone, in what Hux assumed was the bathroom.

"No, sir, I'm sure people are beyond most logic. I've seen that enough, especially in your family."

A droid responded.

"Hey!" Kylo chastised, but he was laughing gently.

"Have I said something?"

"I'm sure that you couldn't ever say anything half as bad as what Beebee must have said to Poe."

Kylo's voice was calm and quiet, no reason for it to convey power.

"I must admit, that little droid has quite a vulgar vocabulary. I think he learned it from Artoo Detoo."

Kylo laughed again, punctuated by a pained gasp. "I've done everything I can for you, sir, but I must voice my concerns that you are not receiving full medical-"

"-I can handle myself, Threepio. Thank you." Kylo interrupted.

Hux moved closer to the door.

Kylo was seated on a stool before another vanity, a golden droid standing over him. Kylo only had a robe tossed across his lap to maintain modesty, body patched with clean bandages. His makeup, though the tear streaks and lipstick had been cleaned away, was still on his face. He was avoiding his own eyes in the mirror, pulling his hair around boredly, as if to fit it into a half-up bun, when his eyes glossed over the doorway.

He froze, watching Hux watch him through the mirror, then cried out shortly. The door was slammed in Hux's face.

Hux watched the closed door, trying to comprehend what he had just seen.

Kylo was _built._ Maker, the man was muscular, only his position and robe affording any sense of modesty. His chest was so broad, how did he possibly hide it under those robes?

"Master Ben! Your mother has forbidden you from the use of your abilities in the presence of-"

"-What are you doing here?!" Kylo cried through the door.

Hux didn't answer. His thoughts were suddenly warm and thick, full of Kylo.

Kylo was some combination of a muscled, powerful soldier and shy, embarrassed altar girl.

It was infatuating. "Go away!" Kylo demanded.

"Master Ben, your heart rate is rising sharply. I rec-"

"-Threepio, shut up!" Kylo hissed.

"Kylo, please-"

"-Why are you here?" Kylo interrupted Hux. Hux imagined that he was leaned up against the other side of the door, hiding his face in his hands.

How was Hux supposed to respond?

He spoke before he found himself able to think.

"I'm worried about you, Kylo. You were so distressed earlier; what's wrong? Can't I help you?"

There was silence on the other side of the door.

"Master Ben, your heart rate has continued to escala-"

"-Threepee, shut up before I scrap you!"

Kylo took a deep breath.

"As I told you before, I'm fine."

"We're not even married yet, and you're already lying about your emotions?" Hux asked, grinning stupidly as Kylo chuckled softly from the other side of the door.

"We are _not_ married, and you're also already invading my privacy." Kylo shot back, though halfheartedly. Hux leaned against the door. He imagined he could hear Kylo's heart beating. "Why are you really here?" Kylo asked.

"I already told you, you worried me. You're a queen; I imagine very little could have upset you so much, or so visibly."

There was quiet behind the door.

As if knowing, Hux stepped back, and the door opened slowly. A hand, strong and slender, curled around it, and then a low, strong brow was made visible over a dark, deep eye, a strong, aristocratic, perhaps even hooked nose came into view, some kind of predatory bird glaring Hux down intelligently.

"And what did you plan to do, had you come and discovered me in distress?"

Hux stepped closer to the door, a sudden rush of power as Kylo shied slightly behind it.

"Whatever you could have needed me to." Hux answered.

Kylo disappeared briefly.

The door swung in, and Kylo stepped out, a blood-red silk robe all the way to his ankles. Its sleeves were tight, down to his wrists, and Hux marveled at how lean he seemed, like none of the muscle underneath existed, like he wasn't bulky.

It likely had something to do with the way he was dressed, to make him more feminine, more Queenly.

Hux caught a better glimpse of the gold (and excessively outdated) droid in the room, as well as a tub that was full of clear water and no doubt waiting for the Queen, before Kylo closed the door again behind him. He looked down at Hux and Hux was reminded, again, that he had to look _up_ into Kylo's eyes.

"You've managed to capture my attention, Emperor. What would you want me to need you for?"

Hux thought immediately and had to bite his tongue to keep himself from saying, _anything you would possibly ask_ , as Kylo's lip twitched.

"You needn't call me Emperor. You're going to marry me in...what, two month's time? Is it even that, anymore?"

Kylo's eyes softened again, he saw it, even if just barely.

"Very well, then, Hux. Or...you have a given name, am I correct?"

Kylo turned calmly, stepping out of his own bedroom, and Hux, too, was suddenly aware of how unsightly the location was for the two of them to be caught in. He followed Kylo as he wandered casually out into his own home, which was, Hux had to remember, wildly unusual, for a queen to take such little space. Not even Hux's smallest chambers on his least used ship could have compared.

"I do, but quite like you, I do not use it often."

"Ah." Kylo waved a hand carelessly. "The name so many know me by is merely ceremonial. Formal, I suppose."

He descended once more into his living room, reclining in a separated part of the couch before his robe's hem had even slipped free of the steps.

Rather than sit so primly as always, however, he tucked his legs up into the chair with him, sideways, the robe draping over them.

Hux followed, though he had not been directly invited, but did not dare to ease back into the couch. It felt completely new, like it was never used, or at least not nearly often enough to show.

It was then that Hux noticed the fine layer of dust that coated most of the room; on the glass table, over the books, noticeable enough that it had to have been from at least a month, maybe longer.

There was no way the Queen did not have a housekeeper; was this not his main living space?

Kylo seemed to notice Hux's scrutinization of the state of the room, for he sighed calmly.

"I'm so busy these days that this space is hardly used for more than sleep and its routines. I rarely even have time to eat, some days."

Hux wanted to say something corroborative, some kind of _I remember days like that, the politics take you out of your body, sometimes that's all a place can be good for_ , but, truthfully, he could say none of those things.

Politics in the First Order didn't exist, merely power, and anyone capable of conniving, blackmailing, or seeping their way into it. There were no long, stately dinners as lavish and utterly tasteless as Kylo had to have been trained to, no hours of customs training and dance practice, things Hux assumed Kylo had begun at just sixteen, if not even younger. When Hux was sixteen, this time of night, he was sleeping in barracks with hundreds of other troopers, most of them dead now, hearing the quiet fumbling of others, slipping into one another's bunks, quiet gasps they thought they could silence. Not even he was heartless enough to report them. Where was Kylo? In a suite likely much larger than this, much more glamour, finally closing the door on everything, to slide out of a headdress heavier than his skull, a dress with more gemstones than he could ever imagine existed, wipe clean a face with so much makeup he could forget who was underneath it. What did he listen to, when he tried to sleep, but the sound of his own restless breathing?

In all the time it took Hux to consider this, he realized he had yet to speak, and Kylo was watching him attentively. Listening, though nothing had yet been said.

"You know why I'm here, Kylo. What happened earlier?" Hux begged.

Kylo, again, looked away. He sighed gently.

Hux had somehow imagined this conversation as more intimate, somehow still imbalanced, sitting at his desk as he filed paperwork, his Queen sitting on a lush cushion on the floor, leaning his head against Hux's thigh, the Emperor's free hand tangled into the Queen's hair.

 _Darling, what's wrong?_

 _I don't want to worry you. But I fear you are asking for information I don't have._

"If I could explain it to you, I would. I'd like you to believe me when I say that." Kylo finally spoke, powerless. "There are just some things that simply do not make sense."

Hux pursed his lips. It wasn't a good enough answer, and Kylo knew it.

But Kylo also knew that he didn't have to give a good enough answer, not when he was curled up late at night in his own home.

So Hux let it stand. He should have been thankful, he supposed, that Kylo had graced him with an answer at all, because even that, he had learned, he was not yet entitled to.

"We have yet to decide on where our shared living space will be." Hux finally stated, changing the subject.

It was a problem he had been facing off with on his own since the arrangement, anyway; the Queen of one government and the Emperor of another, where were they supposed to live together?

Kylo hummed, deep in his chest, like he was toying with the idea.

"I suppose we can't avoid the truth. We will definitely need to live with one another after the wedding."

"You sound unhappy with that." Hux noted, hoping the disappointment in his own voice wasn't too obvious. Kylo met his eye again, sleek, smart.

"I know that you feel the same way as I do about working at home. Having anyone at all over your shoulder is inconvenient, at best."

Hux bit his tongue, because it was totally true.

"Then we shall need separate offices, at least at first. You have no reason to worry about a budget or size; do not forget, my Queen, that you _are_ a Queen. Your subjects would likely be horrified to discover that you live in a space so modest as this."

Hux gestured about them vaguely, catching the twitching lip of Kylo's smile.

Rather than play along, however, Kylo relaxed his head, back into his shoulder, no etiquette, no pretense, no fuss. He tucked his legs closer to himself, appearing rather small where he floated out from the red. Hux marveled at the silk that constituted modesty upon Kylo's frame; the only changes in uniform Hux had experienced in even the last two years were to the color white and to add a cape, yet Kylo seemed to have an entire room somewhere tucked away filled with nothing but lavish robes that were more expensive than many of the houses Hux knew his subjects to live in, and with a good amount more color.

Yet the way the Queen moved, with such practiced grace that had become natural, did what it was perhaps intended to, and Hux relaxed as well, leaning his shoulders into the couch and stretching his legs slightly forward. It was still a stiff position, polite, attentive, but Kylo did notice.

"I must say, I have one question that I should like to know the answer to. Before we are married, though of course it won't stop us from being married." Kylo began, and Hux understood.

This marriage would be another struggle for power, doubtlessly full of manipulations, any possible attempt to use the other man.

He looked forward to it.

"Anything you could possibly want to know, I will tell you." Hux bit back the _my dear_ he was going to end with. Kylo hummed quietly.

"How loyal do you intend to stay to me? How exclusive, I should say." Kylo asked, like it was even a difficult question. Hux had to stop himself from answering on impulse, the question felt so easy to answer.

 _Look at you, even now, in the dead of night, exhausted and debauched and barely clothed, how could another being in this galaxy ever compare to you? How could I ever find someone more worthy of my time?_

Kylo was watching, again, listening before anything had been said, eyes kinder than before. Tender, even.

"If I answer, then I get to ask you a question." Hux countered carefully.

Kylo laughed, a sweet laugh that was somehow genuine.

"Of course."

Hux took in a deep breath.

"Surprising as you may find it, I don't seek out partners often anyway, if at all. I can't tell you the last time I shared a bed with someone else...though I can promise it has happened. More than once."

Kylo was watching. Get to the point, his eyes said.

"But, Kylo, I can tell you that I have wanted you since the moment we met," Hux relished in the way his mouth felt to form those words, the surprise Kylo seemed to adopt. "And I could never bring myself to do anything to jeopardize losing you. Besides, once we are married, what could I ever gain from looking for another partner to chase down? I'll have already captured a Queen."

He ended with a dark smile, one that was matched, surprisingly, by Kylo.

"How curious that you managed to say so much without telling me anything at all." Kylo lilted.

Hux swallowed heavily.

"You're already everything I've ever wanted in a partner, Kylo Amidala. How could I ever so much as look at another person while I have you?" He finally admitted.

Much to his distress, Kylo laughed cruelly.

"Emperor, you've never even touched me! How could you know such a thing?"

 _Emperor_ , there it was again. He'd never felt someone else say it like that before Kylo.

"You said that if I answered your question, you would answer one for me." Hux continued.

"Yes." Kylo agreed, though the look in his eyes promised he hadn't forgotten his most recent question.

"May I touch you?" Hux asked, leaning forward.

Kylo's breath huffed out of his mouth all at once, shock and surprise widening his eyes before he reeled back into his diplomatic, unreadable state. Hux stood. Kylo's jaw tightened. His whole body tensed, actually. "You said yourself that I've yet to touch you, and it's a fair question, how I could know anything without having done so. So," Hux knelt down in front of Kylo's seat, leveling their eyes, "may I touch you?"

Kylo watched him without any hint of emotion.

"But you have touched me, Emperor. In fact, it was one of the very first things you ever did to me. Why would I want to risk being struck again?"

Hux's heart skipped.

They'd never discussed this, he wasn't sure what he was hoping for, that they never would, probably. Slowly, as he spoke, Hux removed his gloves.

"I would rather prefer to try again than let that stand as the only time I've made contact with your skin. Besides, with gloves, was that hardly a fair strike?"

He extended a bare, pale hand, holding his gloves.

He watched Kylo's eyes flicker down, and how cautiously he reached out and took the gloves in his own hand. As quickly as he could, Hux traced his thumb down Kylo's hand.

Kylo had yet to answer.

Hux reached out, just as cautiously as Kylo, and though Kylo watched his every move fervently, allowed Hux to rest his fingertips against his jaw.

Hux could feel Kylo's heart pounding through his body, rapid and shallow, and Hux swore he saw the flash of a butterfly on his cheek. Only for a second, though.

He held Kylo's face with his palm, watching, waiting for Kylo to make eye contact again.

He did, finally, those deep, almost-black-almost-red brown eyes wide. Kylo had yet to respond, but he timidly reached up and held Hux's wrist. His hand was stronger than Hux's, though it seemed more slender, and Hux felt his own pulse against Kylo's hand, sharp and heavy.

Hux leaned close carefully.

Kylo gasped almost-silently.

He pulled away.

His eyes fell, and he lifted Hux's hand from his face.

"Please go home, Emperor." Kylo murmured, lowering his eyes to the ground.

Hux did not move, not right away. Kylo extended his gloves, and silently, stunned, Hux reached out and took them back. He stood up straight, and not really knowing what else to do, stepped away.

"Call me Hux." He said, before turning away and leaving Kylo in silence.


	13. Chapter 13

Hux opened his own chambers, on his own ship, held on Naboo until further notice.

He wanted to scream in frustration, wanted to hit something, and settled on kicking his own desk. It shuddered under the blow, but did not break or cry out or fight back, because it was just a desk.

Hux grabbed his own hair and tugged at it uselessly.

Now his foot hurt, too, and it hadn't changed anything. Kylo Amidala wasn't his fiancé, he was a porcelain doll, just because he belonged to Hux didn't mean he could touch him, or hardly really even have him at all!

With a limp, no less furious shudder, Hux slumped against his door.

His mind immediately jumped to revenge, to spite, and in an instant he was up again, shaking, seating himself at his desk and lifting Phasma's communicator. That group of rebels, they'd been keeping their heads down lately, but he knew that Phasma had some information about a planet they still resided on in pockets, one that also belonged to the Republic. Hux paused, his hand hovering over her name.

He could call her.

But, with Phasma's wife such a spitfire, and with a powerful seat near Kylo, there was no guarantee Phasma would keep quiet.

He rotated his seat, facing communications to his far less savory underlings. They could do dirty things, were well qualified for it, and he had a moment before lifting the receiver.

Did he really need to do this?

If Kylo ever knew, ever found out, would it destroy the already-fragile promise of a wedding?

Was it even worth it, the small, spiteful catharsis Hux knew he'd have?

He remembered, then, how quickly Kylo had turned his face away from Hux's hands, that room inexplicably shredded, and found that Kylo didn't seem to care much for collateral either way.

He lifted the receiver, which rang for mere moments before sputtering to life, the voice on the other end unfamiliar, a mere general who watched over a single ship.

"Emperor Hux?"

"Who else would use this line? You have new orders. Pick your best men, your stealthiest, and send them to Ruusan. The rebels still use that planet, maker knows what else it is good for."

"Wh-what would you like me to order them to do, sir?" The voice on the other end stammered slightly. Hux could already imagine the general, somehow similar to how he used to be, already gesturing to anyone nearby that orders were coming from the very top.

He should keep an eye on his generals, he supposed, considering his rank when the last leader of the First Order fell.

"Whatever the hell they want." Hux stated first, before taking a moment to reassess.

"No uniforms. Keep all of this a lethal secret; delete all evidence of your ship's travel both there and back, send all of the troops involved to other ships after they've finished, each one to a separate sector, give no reason, do not allow them to speak to one another. Try to avoid actively killing, but feel free to destroy some sensitive buildings, and if there are citizens inside, well, give at least a fair warning. And you will never speak of this order once it has been carried out."

"I—o—of course, sir, wh-when would you like this order to be carried out?"

This General was too shaky, too nervous. He likely wouldn't last much longer, Hux thought.

"Immediately."

"Yes, sir. May I dare to-"

"-No." Hux interrupted coolly, before the voice on the other end had even asked.

"O-of course. My apologies, s-sir."

"Immediately. Destroy all evidence of your involvement; don't even use regulation weapons."

"Consider it done, sir."

Hux hung up. He stood, drawing a cigarette out of a drawer and lighting it carelessly. He was starting to get a headache.

His heart had stopped pounding, but did he really feel better?

-/-

 _3: Gems._

Hux glanced at his notebook before closing it, swallowing the flush on his cheekbones. He tucked the notebook into his pocket, making sure it wasn't in the same one as the small velvet box.

He probably should've done this first, sure, but at least it was happening at _some_ point, right?

Plus, it could get him in Leia's good graces, maybe even improve Kylo's attitude towards him, and if Phasma did it, well, so could Hux.

Sleeping wasn't an option last night; he had tossed and turned and tried, but he could not relax enough to even feel the fatigue pressing in at his temples. He'd had the ring for long enough; had it made the day Kylo signed the treaty, even. He'd been planning to present Kylo with it after they'd decided where they would live, but…

What Kylo had said yesterday was true. If Hux wanted to actually be engaged to Kylo, he had to legitimately propose. And, besides, the idea of Hux's ring on Kylo slender hand, glimmering _just enough_ that anyone who saw it would know what it meant, was absolutely intoxicating.

He squared his shoulders and stalked into the conference room.

 _Immediate_ regret flooded him as he saw the long table (usually empty) and at least thirty chairs (usually not there) occupied by every Republic planet ruler in the closest three systems.

He had expected-and would have been able to handle- press and Senator Organa, but with all the eyes actually _there_ , truly in the room, Hux was less sure.

Yet, as he scanned the room, there was one pair of eyes that he couldn't find.

"Where is the Queen?" Hux asked flatly, no amount of courtesy or greeting attached.

Several faces glanced to one another, unsure of what to do, all coming to rest back at him as he took another step into the room. He looked to the empty seat at the head of the table, where Kylo belonged, feigning no surprise as the seat was taken by Senator Leia Organa. She folded her hands neatly on the table, quite similarly to how Kylo would, and cleared her throat carefully.

"The Queen is tending to his duties elsewhere. I'm sure you've heard that there was an attack against the outer rim of the Republic just a few hours ago."

Hux nodded obediently, taking his own seat.

 _Stormtroopers without their helmets, how many could they have actually killed? A single building reduced to rubble, hardly an attack._

Kylo did need to remember that he didn't hold Hux in his hands; Hux held the galaxy in his.

Leia's eyes tightened. She cleared her throat.

"Kylo is currently aiding where he can. He has informed us that he will return as soon as all survivors are safe, and all dead are mourned, and instructed that all decisions normally left to him have been passed to the Senate. So-"

The senator pierced Hux with a dangerous glare. "-Do not think you'll be able to cut favors while he is gone, Emperor."

Hux's throat tightened.

"Are you implying something, Senator Organa?"

Hux never actually expected Kylo to be compassionate enough to up and _leave his throne_ , or cruel enough that even his mother knew that Hux had gone after Kylo to keep him in check.

"Only that-"

Leia's remark fell silent, and she looked behind Hux.

The door slid open, and before Hux could turn, his seat was swung about violently.

" _Ben!"_ Leia cried sharply, and Kylo Amidala tucked his legs back together.

He stood before Hux's seat with a fire in his eyes, a dangerous, terse expression, chest heaving.

Hux could only sit dumbly for a second, trying very hard to comprehend that the red on Kylo's robe was blood, and still wet, and not his.

The queen was dressed from his neck all the way to the floor in a robe that had once been white, fading into red, but now the red splattered all across it, practically dripping from sleeve ends. There were bits of dust and debris in the queen's hair, braided back with only strands of white fabric, dust on his bloody red lips and starkly white face, the only decoration clips on his shoulders where Hux assumed a cape had been. The queen wore no jewelry, no extravagance, and had, Hux could only assume, been dutifully tending his people. Hux would have been touched by that, were subjects not so fickle, and Kylo's arms not full of something he was slamming onto the table now.

He practically crunched the artifact into the tabletop directly in front of Hux, and, breathing deeply, backed away so the table could see.

Kylo took another deep breath, shuddering as he crossed the room to stand by his mother's chair, and only spoke after he had calmed substantially.

"Won't you ask me where I found that, Emperor Hux?"

Hux stared down at the burnt husk of a First Order regulation blaster, practically still smoldering on the table.

Hux only stared. The room shuffled and began to rise in anger, and Hux stared.

He looked up at Kylo, who smoldered back fearlessly.

Hux tried to think of something he could say, something that was intelligent and powerful and consoling and shocked and grieving all at once, and instead all that came to mind was _now is probably a poor time to propose_.

Kylo suddenly let out a wounded sound and keened forward. His hands hit the table unsteadily and he was forced to lean against it, body a rigid and crooked line. His mother's hands crept around Kylo's shoulders, and he closed his eyes weakly, a hand to his forehead.

Hux stood, but before he could speak, the door opened again, and several figures in red pushed past him.

The Knights rushed into the room, practically sweeping up their queen while cooing and calling instructions back and forth as the queen was deposited into a chair and his head was tilted back, almost so he was looking up at the ceiling.

Hux couldn't understand what they were saying with any cohesion, and everyone seemed too intimidated to try to interrupt, but dammit, that was _his_ future husband, and if somebody was going to worry over him, it had better be Hux.

However, no sooner had he tried to step forward than Kylo was standing again, in spite of the loud protests from his loyal servants.

"I promise, I promise, I'm fine, I just didn't catch enough air between leaving the shuttle and ending up here. It just caught up to me too quickly, that's all."

Kylo took a deep, steadying breath, closing his eyes and clasping his hands together. Dust clung to his eyelashes, turning muddy as his eyes watered. He lifted his head calmly.

 _How many died?_

Kylo met Hux's eye for only a moment before turning away.

"There are still citizens to be cared for. In crises such as this, it is most important to think of the people first. I shall return once I have followed through on putting my people first. Mother, I trust you will handle this with a cooler head than mine."

And Kylo walked out, not sparing Hux a second glance as he passed him, that box as heavy as could be in his pocket.

Kylo was at the door before he paused, wavering slightly, dripping blood against the wall.

He turned diplomatically, clearing his throat calmly.

"Perhaps you would care to join me, Emperor. Clearly, you seem a bit behind on the current situation."

Kylo offered, though the challenge was clear.

Hux adjusted his cape as he stood, easily, shoulders back proudly.

"I should be glad to accompany you, my Queen." Hux responded tensely, and Kylo's eyes thinned victoriously before turning again and stalking out, Hux following proudly behind.


	14. Chapter 14

Kylo did not speak as they moved through the building, crowded by his caretakers as they tried to worry over the blood he was covered with. From what Hux could glean, they seemed to be concerned that the image of the Queen, dusty and bloodied, would be used by rebelling groups against him, but from the way Kylo seemed to glide purposefully ahead of them and Hux, he was not worried.

Hux was only aware of how little he truly knew about Kylo as he ascended the flight deck of his ship, a model Hux didn't recognize. It was sleek and white, and as he followed Kylo and his crowd of handmaids to an upper level, entered into a room somehow more lavish than Kylo's own home.

The room was circular, but had large partitions made out of wood frames and paper, with a lavish overstuffed sofa in the visible space facing two chairs, high-backed and velveteen. Kylo finally turned back to his begging servants, and to Hux, who was standing listlessly at the entrance of the room.

He looked down at himself, and the blood he had managed to somehow coat himself with, and sighed.

"Fine, fine. I see I am outnumbered."

He resigned himself easily to the excited babble of his servants, letting himself be tugged behind one of the partitions, his hair and clothes already being pulled at fussily.

Hux continued to stand where he was, unsure of where to go, watching the dim shadows behind the partition.

"Please, please, nothing flashy. Just the tawny will do." He heard Kylo's voice through the partition, followed by a surprised and inconvenienced sound as, Hux assumed, something was either tugged into place or pulled out of it. The slight chatter of his helpers arguing back and forth over each little thing made Hux want to laugh, that Kylo had so many people worrying about each hair on his head, the shape of his fingernails, the strange bruises on his shoulder that one of them seemed extremely worried about. Hux scarcely had a hairdresser to worry about his appearance.

The partition was pulled back and Kylo seemed to be pushed out into the open space again before it closed just as quickly, and he shook himself carefully, regaining his relaxed, unphased posture.

He was wearing an even simpler robe, though Hux hadn't deemed it possible, a light brown with sleeves that were close to his arms, the fabric stretching up over the backs of his hands to make them appear more delicate. The skirt was split into front and back portions at the hips, with the front barely touching the ground as Kylo stood upright, the back trailing behind him, crimson leggings underneath. He observed Hux in silence for a moment, watching Hux observe him, before gliding forward and curling around one of the armchairs calmly.

"Won't you relax, Emperor? I admit, we may have a slight trip ahead of us."

Kylo let himself easily into the armchair he'd been standing behind, crossing one leg elegantly, though widely, over the other, the front panel of his robe draped between his legs modestly.

Hux sat himself on the couch, closer to Kylo than the other chair, and wondered briefly if he should consider adding variety to his own uniform as he watched a silver ring, subtle and still rich, glimmer on Kylo's pinky.

No sooner had Kylo sat than one of his knights reentered the space hesitantly, holding a comb in his mouth, hands filled with what looked like silver leaves.

Kylo did not turn to speak to the Knight. Hux assumed he had heard him coming.

"No, thank you. Just the ribbon I already have is fine, thank you."

"But it's _dusty_ , my queen!" One of the other knights whined from behind the partition, and Kylo smiled briefly.

"It started to rain as we left, did it not? I have no fear that we will be rinsed quite well upon arrival." He waved a hand airily, and with a disappointed huff, the knight in the room turned on his heel and stalked away.

There was the sound of a door sliding open, the footsteps of the knights, and then Kylo and Hux were alone.

"They are quite informal with you." Hux finally observed aloud, watching how Kylo's gaze shifted towards him.

"They have sworn their lives to protecting mine in the same way I have to each and every one of my citizens. Their loyalty is incomparable; it was only a matter of my personality to determine how quickly they would grow comfortable around me… Though I understand it is not quite the same in the First Order."

Hux bit his tongue. He never spoke to his guards unless he was scolding them, and truth be told, he never waited for them or even cared if they were really guarding him. He didn't even know their serial numbers. They hadn't even dared to ask permission to follow him here.

Hux extended an arm across the couch, crossing one leg widely over the other, mirroring Kylo's position, and did not respond.

"Where are we going?" He asked instead, knowing only half the answer.

"Now, Emperor, you shouldn't like to appear unintelligent, would you?" Kylo Amidala's words dripped with honey, condescending though they were, as his eyes drifted lazily away from Hux.

"I suppose I would rather know what purpose there is to being there." Hux corrected tautly.

Kylo took in a calm breath, preparing to respond, but then he stiffened, breath fading from his throat, and he uncrossed his leg as he turned slightly to look behind him.

Another door slid open, opposite the door that they had entered the ship with, and one of the partitions was folded aside.

A lean, dark-haired, slightly-scruffy looking man in a leather jacket and high-waisted flying pants strode into the room purposefully, but stopped dead with a slight shock as his eye met the Emperor's.

Hux watched the man set his jaw, the surprise fading into barely-contained fury, and Kylo sighed as he settled back into his seat.

"Poe. Is there an expected flight difficulty?"

"No. No, my queen." The man tacked the title on quickly, finally looking away from Hux. He did not turn his head to the back of the queen's chair, but rather to the floor in front of him, and when Hux looked to Kylo, found that he was watching the flooring, too.

"Then what purpose should you have?" Kylo countered, elegantly, yet it was made clear that this man should not have been there.

"Nothing immediate, m-"

"-Then it shall be discussed as it becomes immediate. You may return to your posting, Poe." Kylo interrupted, some toneless quality to his voice that Hux couldn't quite place.

The man set his jaw again rather than respond, and turned obediently, leaving the way he had come.

It was only upon the man turning his back that Hux felt he was familiar, that Hux had somehow seen him before.

"In answer to your question, Emperor, I'd quite frankly like to show you what kind of damage you have truly done, and the way that the Republic handles crises like these, but I can tell now that you have something else to ask."

Kylo lifted his head to Hux's once again, presenting Hux with a challenge. He could either deny Kylo's accusation that he had been involved in the attack, or continue moving forward, as Kylo genuinely seemed willing to answer Hux's questions so long as he was asking them.

Kylo was watching expectantly, triumphantly; already, Hux was running of time to choose.

"I should have liked to have known why that man had such little respect for me, but after hearing such a faceless accusation from his queen, I should say I am no longer surprised." Hux finally returned, slinging an arm over the back of the couch to display his own confidence.

Kylo's eyes turned dark, and he stood smoothly. Was it just Hux, or was it suddenly incredibly hard to breathe?

"' _That man'_ is Poe Dameron, my pilot, and the most loyal man I have ever known, though he'd let it get to his head. In fact, he is the one who found not just your man's blaster within the rubble, but also this."

Kylo kicked something across the floor from behind his chair, where his pale hands gripped the back in quiet fury.

Hux dared to look down at what had been kicked to his feet, confident now that it was far more difficult to breathe than it had been only moments before.

The front of a Storm Trooper's helmet was upside down at his feet, the white stamp of the First Order against the black inside of the helmet marked red and brown with dust and dried blood.

 _Idiots. You had simple orders._

"I don't care why you've done this, and yes, I know that the order came from you, Emperor. I only care for you to know what, exactly, you have done."

Kylo turned away from Hux, tracing his hair away from his face, and took in a deep breath, exhaling it slowly, eyes closed the whole time.

Hux suddenly gasped as air flooded his lungs, all the difficulty he had experienced in his chest gone. What was that, a panic attack? It passed far too quickly, it had been far too violent.

Kylo placed himself limply back into his chair, not opening his eyes, and sighed again quietly. Still, Hux made no attempt to correct Kylo nor defend himself.

"You should know, Emperor Hux, that the Republic does not bargain nor settle score with lives. You would do best to consider that a warning, and your only one."

"What do you settle score with, then?" Hux finally spoke, though he did not adjust his position.

"We have no scores _to_ settle with anyone; that is the function of a democracy." Kylo Amidala responded smoothly, coolly.

"But we bargain with agreements." Kylo opened his eyes, pinning Hux dangerously. "Treaties, armistices, trade routes...marriages."

Kylo stood elegantly, dangerously, and turned to the wall, touching some invisible control. The wall slid back to reveal a window, stars shooting by as they jumped to lightspeed.


End file.
